Bet on Me
by kissa621
Summary: Who in their right mind bets on their own virginity? Innocent Bella gets herself caught up in the charms of the very gorgeous, very bad Jacob Black. Will she be able avoid him like her boyfriend asks or will she fall for his seduction? ExBxJ triangle
1. Chapter 1

JPOV

Beams of early morning sunlight stream through the windows, dancing across the walls; the yellow lace curtains do little to block out the light. The room matches the rest of the house with its bright colors and furnishings; they make it look warm and welcoming. The way I imagine a home should look; the complete opposite of mine.

A warm body is cuddled up against my own, her cool breath fanning across my damp shoulder, still wet with last night's tears. Her tiny hand rests on my chest; I can't help watching it for a moment; the way it rises and falls with each of my breaths. I cup it lightly with my own large hand before gently raising it as I crawl out from under her, resting it next to her sweet face.

"Love you," I whisper, carefully arranging the blankets back up around her shoulders and kissing her lightly on the forehead before sneaking out the front door.

Soberly, I drive the few minutes home, wondering what will await me there. _I only need to go in and out_, I think, reassuring myself it will be quick. The red shack I call home is eerily quiet. I pause, anxiously feeling like I'm in the eye of a hurricane; the calm after the hell, knowing there is still more to come. The worst is far from over.

Last night I had been stupid, letting my anger get away with me, and I regret it. Not for my sake or his, but for her sake. She didn't deserve this.

Rubbing my sore jaw, I step off my bike, shattering pieces of broken and discarded beer bottles beneath my boots as I go slowly ascending the porch steps, preparing for whatever comes my way.

~~-BoM-~~

BPOV (Same morning)

The first day of junior year, and I'm already running late. With my backpack bouncing on my shoulder with each running step and my hands full, I desperately cling to the Pop-tart between my teeth, hoping it won't break and fall to its death in the dirt. Shifting the items around in my hands, I work at opening the car door. Tossing my backpack into the leather passenger seat, I stuff a change of clothes into the gym bag on the floor.

That new car smell still lingers in the air as I drive down the highway at speeds my father would ticket as "reckless driving." One thing's for sure, my old truck would never have been able to reach these speeds. I sigh; I can't deny that this is a beautiful car, and wonderfully fast on a day like today, but it still isn't my truck.

Everything about my flashy Mustang convertible screams _Charlie_ _Swan_, from its patent leather seats to its "THAXDAD" license plate. He even special ordered the sky blue color. 'Nothing but the best for my little girl,' he would say, but the sad truth is, he didn't really do it for me. He did it to show off to his friends. You'd be surprised how much the Chief of Police makes, most people are, which I think is partly why Charlie feels the need to show it off. My dad's always been a 'keep up with the Jones'" kind of a guy. My truck never suited his lifestyle. He's a firm believer in keeping up with appearances, meaning expensive cars and clothing. These rules, by definition, extend to his daughter.

A few minutes (and several driving violations) later, I pull into the school; my car lifts and dips over the familiar speed bumps as I drive around to the secluded lot on the far East side designated the "Jock lot."

Stuffing the rest of the Pop-tart into my mouth, I shrug my bags over my shoulder as I exit my car. With a deafening roar, a sleek black motorcycle ramps up onto the median in front of me, breaking so quickly the tires squeal and skid; the smell of burnt rubber permeates the air. Had I not been slightly stunned and my mouth full of strawberry Pop-tart I might've pointed out that this wasn't a parking space, but as it is, I stand chewing, cheeks puffed out, ridiculously resembling a chipmunk.

Killing the engine, he swings one long leg over the contraption, easily dismounting and kicking the kickstand. I stare, mesmerized by the muscles of his arms and back flexing under the constricting tee shirt as he slides off his helmet. Tucking it under his chiseled bicep, his free hand runs through his disheveled black hair. I think I gasp in recognition, but to be honest, I'm not sure I'm even breathing, rendering me incapable of any kind of inhalation. The rider is none other than Jacob Black.

The truth is, I don't know much about Jacob, other than the rumors; he's a local bad boy, gangbanger, player, womanizer, you name it. If it's bad, he's probably done it. But I don't put much stock into the rumors; it's something my mother taught me a long time ago. You can't go by what other people tell you; it's like judging a book by its cover. You never know what's inside until you open it up and see for yourself.

To be honest, I hate stereotyping; if I believed in it, then I would be nothing more than that "nice cheerleader" and my best friend a "band nerd," while my boyfriend is a "football jock." So I don't see the point in automatically assuming Jacob Black is a bad boy, but he certainly does look the part dressed in all black with his motorcycle boots, black pants, black shirt and tribal tattoo. The thick black swirls of his tattoo lick around one bicep, half hidden under his tee shirt, completing the 'don't-mess-with-me' look.

Yeah, this boy spells trouble.

Almost mechanically, I step backwards into my door, shutting it tightly behind me. The slam of metal against metal is enough to gather Jacob's attention as he turns his piercing black eyes toward me. _Wow_, he really is gorgeous…scary gorgeous. He looks at me like he could eat me alive.

"Nice ride." He nods toward my car, his eyes slowly raking over me then focusing on the license plate. Normally I would smile, whisper my appreciation and brush past him, but right now my mouth is still too busy chewing down my breakfast pastry. Instead, I turn a bright shade of red, nod in thanks, and hurry past, praying he doesn't notice my chipmunk cheeks as I go.

I'm well aware of his presence behind me, his eyes burning holes into my back as I walk. All of my concentration in the short distance from my car to the doors is on my feet, pushing them forward in a straight line and avoiding tripping over any invisible obstacles. Once inside, I breathe a sigh of relief; the door closing behind me feels like cutting off an invisible cord from his eyes to my back.

Pushing into the crowded space, I glance at the clock, thankful that it hasn't rung yet. Working my way through the masses and towards my locker, I begin digging into my backpack for my locker combination. With my head down, I wander blindly until I reach my destination.

"Hey sweetheart," a velvet voice coos in my ear; I smile at the sound of it. Withdrawing the slip of paper with my combination, I look up into Edward's handsome face, his copper hair sticking up wildly from his fingers having run through it. Losing myself in the pools of his emerald eyes, I can't help but think how easily dazzled I am by him. He's perfect. I move up onto my toes as Edward leans down, sharing a chaste kiss hello.

"Hey, sorry I was running late this morning."

"Bella, you're late every morning," he chuckles.

"That's not true. I'm not late on the days I have cheerleading practice."

"That's only because you have practice before school, and in that case, you're usually late to practice."

Okay, so that was true.

"So I'm not a morning person," I shrug. "What can you do?"

"In your case, not much. I think you're already taking every necessary precaution you can. How many alarm clocks are you using now?"

I sigh, "Four," ticking them off my fingers as I continue, "One next to the bed, one on the other side of the room so I actually have to get up to turn it off, one in the bathroom telling me to get out of the shower, and one in the kitchen when it's time to go."

This earns another hearty chuckle from Edward as I finally open my locker. Shoving my gym bag inside, I remove the few books I need to get me through the morning. Luckily, our school has orientation a week before school starts, where we get our schedules, books, and lockers; everything I need is already good to go.

"Are you ready for the first day back?" I ask.

"No, I didn't have enough time with you during the summer." He leans against the lockers, his intense green eyes never straying away from me as he brushes his fingers around my waist.

"To think, next year you'll be away at college, and I'll be here all by myself." I fake a pout.

"Hmm, maybe I'll flunk this year, so I have to stay and graduate with you."

"Oh, I'm sure your parents will just love that." I avert my gaze onto my locker mirror, tucking a few hairs behind my ears. With a gasp, I notice a familiar figure in the reflection over my shoulder. Jacob is staring straight at me, his broad body leaning against the opposite wall, his hands shoved deep in his pockets with one foot propped against the wall. His figure is quickly replaced, blocked by a new face as Edward locks eyes with me through the tiny mirror.

"You look beautiful," he praises, resting his chin on my shoulder. I roll my eyes at him. I'm average, with long, chestnut hair and brown eyes; certainly not beautiful. Shaking my head, I slam the locker shut.

"Why don't you ever believe me when I tell you you're beautiful?" Edward asks exasperatedly.

"Because it's not true," I retort.

"Bella, have you any idea how frustrating it is that you don't believe me?" Taking my shoulders, he levels his face with mine. "You. Are. Beautiful. How many times must I say it?"

Thankfully, Alice chooses this moment to bounce up to us, ending the redundant argument. We say hello just as the first bell sounds.

"Bella, are you ready for Mr. Moore's class?" Alice's soft voice tinkles as she bobs up and down; I swear the tiny pixie-like girl is always bouncing. Honestly, I'm envious of her early morning energy. Here I am, the girl who needs four alarm clocks, whereas Alice is naturally indefatigable. Bet she only uses one alarm clock too.

"History at eight a.m.?" I let out a groan. "No, I'll never be ready. Whose bright idea was it to have history first period anyway? I'll be asleep in less than two minutes."

"It won't be that bad; you'll have me there," Alice croons.

"Just promise to nudge me when I start to nod off," I say with my index finger pointing at her nose.

"Of course; what are best friends for?"

"I'll meet you here between classes," Edward says, sweetly kissing me on the temple. "I've got chemistry this hour."

"Ugh, good luck; that's worse than history."

Mr. Moore's classroom is bustling as Alice and I take two seats next to each other near the center of the room, the second row from the back. The individual desk-chairs are lined into tight rows, the front of one desk nearly touching the back of another. As the classroom continues to fill, Alice and I talk in our usual banter, laughing until the tardy bell rings. Digging into my backpack, I begin pulling out my notebook and pencil as I feel a tap on my shoulder. With a questioning look, I turn to the seat behind me, my brown eyes meeting with ebony ones.

Jacob Black? What is he doing here? This is junior history, and he's a senior. Maybe his bad boy reputation isn't too off base if he's stuck retaking this class.

"Can I borrow a pencil?" Jacob gives me a cocky smile, one that I couldn't quite figure out the meaning of.

"It's the first day of school and you don't have a pencil?" I ask incredulously.

Jacob's eyes flash angrily. "It's just a pencil, Princess. Daddy can buy you a new one."

Excuse me? _Princess_? _Daddy can-_? Who does this guy think he's talking to? I think my own eyes flash back at him; without responding, I dig into my bag. An impatient sigh brushes against my shoulder as I produce a brand new, wooden pencil. He'll have to sharpen it of course, but for some reason, this makes me feel better. It's a little victory to me, like I'm making him work for the reward.

"Keep it." Smiling, I hand it over, refusing to let him believe his snide little remark has gotten to me, even if it has. A moment later, the grinding sound of the pencil sharpener fills the room, causing me to smile.

Class continues to drone on with Mr. Moore. After passing out a syllabus, he immediately gets us started on taking notes. Not a moment goes by that I'm not aware of Jacob's presence behind me. As hard as I try to ignore him, I swear I can feel his breath on my shoulder or the slightest touch to my hair. The chairs are close enough that it could be accidental. If my hair was any longer, it would be laying atop his desk. Uncertain as to whether or not he is doing this on purpose, I casually sweep my hair around front, resting it on one shoulder.

A minute passes. Concluding that the desks are just too close together, I allow myself to relax.

A hot breath descends down my neck, causing me to jump noisily in my seat. Several eyes land on me while Alice gives me a concerned glance. Resisting the urge to shoot a dirty look at Jacob, I duck my head. My cheeks burn pink as I release my hair, effectively covering my exposed neck, and fanning it to cover as much of my bare shoulders as possible.

For the next thirty minutes of class, I'm on hyper alert, my skin tingling with anticipation, waiting, expecting to feel his breath tickle my skin, the faint breeze through my hair, but I feel nothing.

During the last five minutes, Mr. Moore assigns us study questions from chapters one through six. Fifty questions, due tomorrow, the whole class groans in unison. As Alice and I stand to file out of the classroom, I allow myself to look at Jacob, still sprawled out at his desk with only a syllabus and pencil lying in front of him. No history book; no notes.

My mind boggles. He didn't take notes? Why did he need to borrow my pencil if he didn't even plan to use it? And why was he bothering me during class? Surely his breath on my neck wasn't an accident. Was it? Maybe I'm just reading too much into this; he certainly isn't paying any attention to me now, and I'm standing right in front of him.

"What's wrong?" Alice asks, snapping my attention to her, concern lacing her usually bubbly voice. In my peripheral vision, I see Jacob look up at us. Our classmates still filing out the door have forced us to stop next to his desk.

"Nothing. Why?"

"You're biting your lip." She points. "You only do that when you're anxious or trying solve a problem." Damn Alice for being so perceptive.

"Oh." I stumble for an effective lie. "I was just thinking about how long it will take to do all those study questions. I wanted to spend some time with Edward tonight."

"Oh yeah, I know! What's Mr. Moore thinking? I mean, just because he doesn't have a life doesn't mean we don't!" Leave it to Alice to screech that our teacher doesn't have a life when he's still in the room. I quickly check him at his desk. Luckily, he didn't hear, or he just doesn't care.

"Where do you go next?" Alice asks, still oblivious to her blunder, or maybe she just doesn't care either.

"English, Miss Davenport. What about you?"

"I have band this hour, and it's my homeroom. So I'll see you at lunch?" Without waiting for an answer, she bounces in the opposite direction toward the band room, strategically placed at the far side of the school.

Rounding the corner, I spot Edward waiting at our rendezvous point with his back to me, much like the first time I met him. Only this time, he's expecting me. Practically running, I sneak up behind him, whispering in his ear, "Miss me?"

"Always." He turns around, smiling my favorite crooked smile; my heart flutters in response.

We met my freshman year, when his sister suggested Edward take me to the Valentines dance after he'd insisted he wasn't going. Of course, this didn't stop Rosalie.

At the time, Rose was a junior, Varsity Captain, and one of my only friends on the cheerleading squad. She had often given me a ride home since we live in the same neighborhood.

"_Bella, do you mind if we stop and get something to eat? I'm starving," asks the beautiful blonde sitting next to me in her pristine BMW. Until she mentioned it, I hadn't realized we've turned off the main road, heading towards the Lion's Head. _

"_Of course not, Rose." Internally, I groan. The Lion's Head is the restaurant at the local country club. I think it's over-priced and a little too pompous for my tastes, but Rosalie loves it. The Country Club caters to all their members, and Rose revels in the attention. Thanks to Charlie and his 'appearances,' we're both well-known members as well. _

_Once inside, Rosalie surprises me by dodging the hostess and flowing right to an occupied booth in the back. Confused, I follow her, noticing only a mop of messy, copper hair waiting for us. When we reach the table, Rosalie unabashedly slides next to the handsome young man._

"_Hello, little brother." She shuffles his hair. "How nice of you to save us a seat!"_

"_Us?" The boy asks, raising his gaze from his sister's to mine; his eyes flitter back and forth a few times. As it dawns on him what his sister has done, his cheeks turn a light shade of pink as I feel my own rival to match. _

"_Have a seat, Bella." Rosalie motions to the opposite side of the booth, smiling like the cat that caught the canary._

_A few uncomfortable minutes later, Rose excuses herself to the restroom, instructing us to 'talk.' I admit I'm nervous. I've never had dinner with a boy before. I'm completely inexperienced when it comes to dating._

"_I'm really sorry about my sister. She seems to think she's quite the matchmaker." Edward fiddles with the cloth napkin in front of him. _

"_So I noticed. Is she always so…" I stop, unsure of the right adjective._

"_Meddlesome? Yes, though this is the first time she's ever tried to hook me up with anyone."_

"_Oh, lucky me." I wince at the sound of my own words. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean that in a bad wa., I'm sure you're great. I just meant... it's not that I don't like you – who wouldn't? You're beautiful. I mean…oh God." Lifting the collar of my tee shirt up to the bridge of my nose, I hide my face, my knuckles covering my closed eyes. I'm mortified. What is the matter with me?_

"_It's okay. I understood what you meant…I think," he chuckles; I lower the shirt slightly, peeking out but still too ashamed to come entirely out of hiding. "You're going to have to come out from behind there sooner or later."_

"_No, I won't. I can stay in here a very long time."_

"_It'll be hard to eat like that." He has a point. _

_Slowly, I right my shirt._

"_That's better," he smiles, and for the first time, I see his imperfectly perfect smile. _

_Still embarrassed, my eyes dart past him to the restrooms, searching for Rosalie. She's been gone a long time, and I need her as my buffer._

"_She's not coming back, you know."_

"_What?"I panic._

"_I know my sister. She's not coming back."_

"_But she was my ride!"_

"_I'll take you home, Bella. I'm sure that was her plan all along." _

Executed, Rosalie's 'plan' has worked, though neither of us like to admit it. By the time Edward had driven me home, he asked me to the Valentines dance. Afterward, we shared our first kiss under the stars on my doorstep. We've been happily together ever since.

"How was history? Didn't fall asleep, did you?" Edward's eyes are playful as he takes my hand and begins walking me to my next class.

"Nope, I was wide awake the whole time." Mostly because I was hypersensitive to the person sitting behind me, but I think it best not to mention that part. Jacob is still a mystery to me. I just don't know what to make of that first hour.

"Alice did her job then?" What? Oh, right, we're talking about Alice, not Jacob.

"Yep, Alice did great. You know how she is; she'd never pass up a chance at poking me with a pencil." The word brings the involuntary question to my mind. Why did Jacob ask me for a pencil if he didn't even need it? Was it just an excuse to talk to me? Not that he was particularly nice to me when he did talk to me. What was that about anyway? Does he not like me? What was it he called me? Oh right, _Princess_.

"Bella? What are you thinking so hard about?" Edward interrupts my thoughts. Damn, are my friends really this perceptive, or am I just that transparent?

"Nothing. I'm just tired, I guess." Still fighting to keep Jacob out of my thoughts, we stop outside of my classroom. "I'll see you in an hour?" Offering a small smile, I turn into the room when his hand clasps around my wrist and pulls me back.

"Wait, you can't go in there without giving me a kiss goodbye."

"Edward, I'm going to see you again in less than an hour."

"But you're leaving for that hour. You have to kiss me goodbye when you leave me." His eyes still hold that playful glow to them. I roll my eyes but oblige easily, lifting up on my toes and brushing my lips against his.

"Goodbye," I sigh.

"Goodbye. I love you."

I swear my heart stops beating. Using every ounce of dignity I can, I force my face into what I believe is a sweet smile. Awkwardly, I turn around and dart inside the classroom.

Don't judge me.

My thoughts are flying a million miles per minute as I walk straight to the back of the room and take a seat. I didn't know what to do; a wave of panic, dread, and guilt crashed over me, so I ran. Laying my forehead down on the cool table, I squeeze my eyes shut. I'm too engrossed in my own thoughts to look at the person who sits beside me, but I hear them, scraping the chair legs against the floor and plopping down. The desks are different in this classroom; each table has two chairs, sharing the desk space.

Sliding my head off the desk, I reach into my backpack, pulling out a notebook and pencil. This isn't the first time Edward has told me he loves me, though it's the first time he's said it in such a public place. Was he expecting me to say it back? I thought he understood my views on this. Not that I'm discouraging him from saying it. He has every right to tell me how he feels, but I hate not saying those three words back to him.

It's not that I don't believe in love or I have an aversion to it or anything, it's just that…I'm not ready. I know Edward loves me; he's told me several times before. I just never say it back. Not that I don't love him.; I do, but do I truly know what love is? I'm almost seventeen, and Edward's the first boyfriend I've ever had.

I hear half the student body say they love their girlfriend or boyfriend every day. They could be going out for a week and already they're in 'love.' It's a word that gets tossed around so much it loses its meaning. Love is too important a word for that. When I tell Edward I love him, I want to know it; I want to mean it with every ounce of my heart because once I say it, once it's out there, I can't take it back.

A husky voice startles me out of my thoughts. "Can I borrow some paper, Princess?"

My head snaps so hard it's almost painful. Jacob is my desk partner. He had been the one to sit down beside me when I was too preoccupied to notice. What's he doing here? This is junior English! Not only that, but he sat next to me. He _chose_ to sit next to me _and_ he called me Princess again. Does someone who dislikes you sit next to you?

"Little unprepared for school today, are we?" I begin ripping out a few pages of my notebook, lest he get the wrong impression and decide that I'm too snooty to give him some paper.

Unexpectedly, Jacob leans closer to me. Only a few inches away, I can feel the heat radiating off of his body as he shoots me a dazzling smile that could rival Edward's. I have to admit, I feel momentarily enamored. My heart skips a beat as I fight the flush on my face.

"I'm always prepared…" His eyes roam down my body and back up provocatively. "…when it counts."

Just like that, the enamored feeling is gone. I rip the pages out of the book, tossing them so they scatter across the table. His smile widens as he leans back in his seat, stretching his legs out diagonally, pressing his knee against mine. I jerk back involuntarily, as though his touch has burned me.

I try desperately to look anywhere but at him, ignoring the close proximity between us. Through my peripheral vision, I can see him staring at me, his body slouched back, facing mine, with one arm resting on the back of his chair, the corner of his mouth turned up. I notice he is still carrying the pencil I gave him first hour, not that I should care. I try to listen to Miss Davenport's lecture, but I can't concentrate. It's like he's assessing me.

I typically make it a rule to be nice to everyone, but Jacob Black is making that difficult. My mother always used to say that line from _Bambi_, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all," or something like that. It's been a long time since I've seen that movie, probably as long as it's been since I've seen my mom. I still hold on to everything she taught me, trying to make her proud just in case she decides to call. She's called before to check up on me, and when she calls again, I want to have something to tell her that will make her proud. The real reason I'm a cheerleader is for her.

She would talk about her days in high school, how they were the best years of her life. She was captain of the squad while my dad was the captain of the football team; together, they won homecoming king and queen. I guess I just think that if I work hard enough to be everything she wants me to be, she'll come home.

Honestly though, I don't know where my mother is. And the last time she called, well…I was twelve. So maybe I'm crazy, thinking that being perfect for her and Charlie will bring her back. But I'd do just about anything to get her to come home. For the rest of the hour, my mind drifts back to memories of my mother, father and me when I was young, before I knew that our home in Crestwood Estates was viewed as the 'rich' part of town, before I knew what keeping up with appearances meant, and before my mother walked out of my life, and I was actually happy.

For the rest of the hour, I completely forget about Jacob Black.

~~-BoM-~~

Edward's waiting for me in the hallway outside of English. Walking straight into him, I wrap my arms around his waist in a tight hug. I don't care that we are in the middle of a crowded hallway and I don't care who is staring, I just need him. I need to feel better somehow, and this seems to be the only way. Resting my cheek against his hard chest, his warmth caresses my soul, effectively melting away my insecurities about my mother.

As we pull apart, Edward is shoved roughly, shouldered by a large, dark body.

"Hey," Edward calls at the retreating form angrily. It continues walking away, only turning back to glance at us, an unreadable expression across his face. Jacob. "What the hell is his problem?"

"I don't know," I shrug. I've been wondering that same thing all morning. "Do you know why Jacob would be in my English class?" My words are out before I'd thought to contain them.

"Jacob Black is in Junior English?" He laughs.

"And history," I add, though I don't laugh. I'm actually kind of peeved that Edward is laughing. It's rude.

"I'm surprised he even came back to school. I didn't peg him for the type."

"What do you mean? Did he drop out?"

"Dropped out, kicked out, I dunno, Bella. The stories are all different. The guy's a jackass," he shrugs nonchalantly. Apprehension then clouds his face as he grabs my wrist to stop me mid-stride. "Did he say anything to you?"

"He just asked to borrow some paper." And a pencil, but the way Edward is looking at me, it seems best not to mention the fact that he's talked to me not once, but three times today. And it isn't even lunch yet.

"You should stay away from him, Bella. That guy's bad news."

"Bad news how?" I ask, though I think I already have an idea based on his tattoo, his attire, and the way he's been staring at me all hour.

Edward's worried face smoothes into a smile. "You're so pure, Bella. You don't even notice those out there that aren't. Just trust me, okay?"

"I'm not pure." I'm offended but don't have a better argument other than just denying the fact.

"You are." Kissing our intertwined hands, he adds, "You're pure and innocent and decent, and that's why I love you."

I try not to bristle at his words, especially the last three.

Our homeroom stays the same from freshman year to senior year, thank goodness. For an hour I'm free from having to worry about Jacob Black unexpectedly walking in. Nodding hello to Eric Yorkie, I slide into the seat next to him; the same spot I've sat in since my first day of freshman year. Glad that I have an hour to start on homework, I pull out my history book. Mrs. Clark winks at me from behind her desk, and I smile back at her. Mrs. Clark is my favorite teacher. She's a little scatter-brained and not at all useful for helping with homework other than home ec, the class she teaches, but I can't help but love her enthusiasm. She seriously loves her job.

Eric abruptly jumps up; banging his knees on the desk, nearly knocking it over, he quickly grabs his books and runs to the next table as if he can't get away from me fast enough. Completely confused, I look up. My heart starts pounding erratically against my rib cage as my eyes focus on the person walking toward me. I didn't see how, but I know that, somehow, Jacob has frightened Eric into scampering away so he can take the seat next to me.

What's he doing here? He's not even supposed to be in this homeroom!

He walks around the desk slowly, holding my gaze; his lips turn up in the corners as though he's amused. His eyes show an emotion I can't quite place, whether it's humor for sitting next to me for the third time in a row or maybe it's sheer arrogance. With him, it's hard to tell, though I'd bet on the latter.

Our gaze finally breaks when Mrs. Clark starts talking. "Welcome to homeroom, students. If you're returning, then you know what to do. If not, I'll give you a quick summary. Homeroom is a study hour, not a playtime hour or naptime." Mrs. Clark giggles, as if she's made some sort of a joke. "There is no talking during homeroom unless it's with me. You may get passes from your other teachers and go to their rooms during this hour for help on your homework. Otherwise, you may ask me. Though I don't know how helpful I'll be, I'll do my best. I've converted the office into a student lounge, so you may help each other and not disrupt anyone. Please ask before using it as I will only allow two students in there at a time. If you don't have any homework, then you will use this time to read." Mrs. Clark gazes over each student, smiling, her hands shuffling excitedly. "All right, let's get to work."

Without so much as a glance to the person sitting next to me, I stick my nose back into the history book. Not that I can concentrate now, with Jacob's penetrating eyes watching me like a hawk. _Again_.

I don't know why Jacob has a sudden fascination with me, but I don't like it. I'm even more apprehensive about him now that I talked with Edward. What interest could he possibly have with me that he'd want to sit next to me for three classes? Does he just enjoy watching me squirm? He certainly doesn't act like he likes me. He even shoved against Edward in that hallway for no given reason. I'm beginning to think Edward is right and that Jacob is a jackass.

"Glad to see you've started my homework," says the jackass in a conversational tone, one I haven't heard from him yet.

"Your homework?" Is that really my best retort?

"You're going to give me your answers." His tone is still light, playful even.

"No, I don't believe I will," I politely reply.

Mrs. Clark puts a finger to her lips. "No talking, Bella…uh, Mr.…" Mrs. Clark looks down at her desk, rifling through the pages like she's lost something.

"Jake," Jacob responds.

"Jake?" She asks, a confused look on her face.

"Jake Black."

Mrs. Clark nods then squeals as she finally locates her student roster. Jacob cocks an eyebrow at me before continuing. "Mrs. Clark?" he says, using that dazzling smile of his. I curse myself for letting that same smile dazzle me only an hour before. "I was wondering if Bella and I could use the student lounge. I need some help with my study questions."

_What?_ I snap my head up at him then at Mrs. Clark pleading with my eyes, _no_! Of course Mrs. Clark can't take her eyes off his toothy grin and agrees it's a wonderful idea.

And to think, I used to like you Mrs. Clark.

* * *

**A/N:** Maybe I'm too hard on myself, but this is not my favorite piece of work. I feel like it's much more casually written and that's just not my style but I had a really, really hard time with this. I've written and re-written this first chapter about a dozen times. The second chapter is my favorite. It's where the story really takes off but before we could get there I needed to get through this.

P.S. JPOV is relatively taking place at the same time as Bella's POV, this means that he is not waking up with Bella. And if it's not Bella who is it? :D

Special thanks to jkane180 for betaing this for me! *hugs*


	2. Chapter 2

The makeshift study lounge is nothing more than a large closet with a small couch and a couple bean bags inside. Reluctantly, I plop down onto the old orange couch; its stiff springs uncomfortably poke me through the worn fabric. Jacob closes the door behind him before sitting, rather closely, next to me. With the door closed, the room is eerily secluded.

"Damn, I forgot my history book in my locker," Jacob says with mock sincerity.

"Unprepared again. Why am I not surprised?"

"I'm unprepared 'cause my fuck of a father wouldn't let me in the house this morning. Ever had that problem, Princess?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." I'm almost too stunned to answer, but somehow, I whisper the words. I couldn't believe what he had said. I feel absolutely terrible for him but suddenly the whole morning makes sense. The reason he didn't have a pencil in first hour and was angry when I pointed it out, the reason he didn't take notes, or carry his books.

"It's all right," he lightheartedly adds. "I can just share with you." Jacob moves his leg flush with mine while draping his arm around my shoulders. I hastily shrug him off, scooting as far from him as possible, which is only a few inches before I'm pressed against the armrest of the couch. "Do you mind? I have a boyfriend."

He leans in, whispering in my ear, "Good. I like competition."

I laugh without humor, "There is no competition."

Jacob's grin widens, "So I've already won."

_Ugh_!

He's so arrogantly confident and still uncomfortably close to me. I start flipping through the pages of my book just so I have an excuse to ignore him. I had begun to feel sorry for him, to understand why he'd been such an ass this morning, but the way he's acting now is inexcusable. I gave him a pencil, I gave him some paper, and I'm helping him now. What right did he have to be so insatiable?

"Could we just get started on these study questions, please? I'd like to get them done before tonight."

"What's the rush?" He leans back, folding his hands behind his head, "Big plans with the boyfriend tonight?"

"Maybe," I say with a shrug, though I probably wouldn't see Edward tonight, not unless I get these questions done.

Jacob studies me a moment, brows furrowed. I look back at him, raising my own in question.

Finally, he asks, "So, this boyfriend, do I know him?"

"You should; he's in the same class as you, Edward Cullen." You just shoulder bumped him in the hallway not even fifteen minutes ago.

"Oh, yeah, I know Edward," he smiles. "Average height, messy hair, total douche."

"He is not." He ignores me.

"Does he love you?"

"What?"

He rolls his eyes, "Does he love you?"

"Yes," I answer definitely, slightly puzzled by his question.

"Do you love him?"

My mouth opens, but I hesitate.

"Hmm, I thought so. You don't."

"I never said I didn't love him," I point out. Why is he asking this?

"You didn't say you did either."

I become irrationally angry. How dare he come in here and try to tell me how I feel! What right does he have? Is this what he wants? To make me angry? It certainly seems like he's trying.

"What do you care anyway?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. I stand up and walk to the opposite wall, getting as far away from him as I could, which, unfortunately, is only about four feet in this small broom-closet of an office.

"I don't. I just heard that poor bastard telling you he loved you outside of English. It was pretty funny when you just walked away from him."

Jacob saw that? Of course he had, I had forgotten he followed me into the classroom, sitting next to me almost immediately.

"I don't expect you to understand. But Edward does." _I hope_.

"He understands? You must not have seen the look on his face."

My heart constricts at the thought of hurting my sweet Edward. I never want to hurt him.

"What's the matter with you anyway? Why can't you say those three little words?"

"It's not that I can't. It's just that I don't want to share that with him yet."

"Why not? He says he loves you, you say it back; big deal."

"It is a big deal. I think telling someone you love them should be…" I struggle to find the right words. "…the pinnacle of the relationship, signifying that you're ready for that next level of commitment." I cringe; I sound like I'm reading out of a textbook, straight out of the _How to Sound Socially Awkward_ handbook.

Jacob's eyebrows furrow, "Are you telling me that you're a virgin?"

"Excuse me?" My voice squeaks.

"You are, aren't you? Huh, and I thought you cheerleaders were all easy."

"I am not-" I start, but I can't finish. He'll know I'm lying even if I did. Of course I'm a virgin. It's called _making love_ for a reason. I'm not even sure I'm in love yet.

That doesn't mean this is something I'm going to discuss with Jacob.

"That's not any of your business," I finally finish.

"That poor bastard. If you were my girlfriend, I would've nailed you by now."

"I doubt that."

"How long have you been with him?"

My fingers suddenly become very interesting as I shift my weight, "Eighteen months."

Jacob lets out a low whistle. "I could've had you in three."

"Don't bet on it."

"Is that a challenge?" He stands slowly, his intense eyes narrowing. My breathing stalls as he stalks toward me like a predator stalking its prey.

Is it me? Or did it suddenly get hot in here?

"I bet in three months…" He places his hands on each side of me, pinning me to the brick wall. "…I'll have you _screaming_ my name."

I'm desperately fighting the urge to crumble under his domineering gaze. He's towering above me, trying to make me feel vulnerable. I couldn't let him see it's working.

"While running in the opposite direction? Possibly." I hope my voice is as steady as I want it to be.

Jacob starts running his index finger up the side of my arm. "Come on, Princess. Make a bet with me. You're so sure that I don't have a chance."

I scoff, jerking my arm away from him. What is the matter with him? He can't really think that I would do such a thing. I don't even like him! I have a boyfriend! Does he really think he is so attractive that I would jump at the chance to have him? I don't think so.

Placing my hands on his chest, I try unsuccessfully to push him away. It only provokes him more. His hard as rock body doesn't move back, just closer. Resting his elbows beside my head, he leans against me; my hands on his chest are the only barrier between us.

"Three months." His tongue wets his bottom lip, followed by his teeth, biting down provocatively. "That's all the time I need, and you'll be begging me to fuck you."

Rolling my eyes, I futilely push against his chest again; he still doesn't budge.

"Please. Like I could ever fall in love with you." I'm proud of myself; on the inside I'm crumbling, my mind is screaming that he's too close, that Edward would not be happy if he saw this, and yet on the outside, I'm still able to retort back assertively.

"Who's talking about love? I just said fuck; hot, sweaty, animalistic _fucking_. If you fall in love with me, that's your problem."

"I'm saving sex for love."

"Come on, Princess, picture it," his husky voice whispers, "I bet you'd like it gentle, sweet even. I can do that. I'll start by running my fingers through your hair…" He demonstrates by threading them into my hair at my temple. "…while gently nibbling your jaw, your neck, your shoulders…" His hand ghosts along the nape of my neck, "…then slowly remove every article of clothing, until there's nothing separating the two of us, just skin…" He's lightly trailing his fingers down my cheek. "…touching…" He brushes under my chin. "…skin." My eyes are locked with his. "Then I'll kiss every inch of your perfectly naked body," an involuntary shudder runs through me. He continues, unfazed, "Starting here…" His thumb caresses my bottom lip. "…and ending down…_there_." I stop breathing.

A devilish smile crosses his lips as I tell myself what he said was disgusting, that nothing about that was seductive, and I'm not turned on. But I know I'm lying; the moisture in my panties could attest to that.

"You know you want it, Princess."

No, I can't let him do this to me. He's a player, a womanizer. How many times has he done this same thing to other women? I could shudder at the thought. I refuse to be his next conquest. I can beat him at his own game; I just have to ignore the butterflies in my stomach and find my anger to use it against him.

I move my hands up to either side of his face. Standing on my tip toes, I lean in. "What I want," I whisper, copying his husky tone. Closing the distance between us, I bring my lips closer to his. "What I _need_ is for you to…" I tilt my head to his ear, "…back off."

I lean back against the wall, crossing my arms over my chest as I sneer at him. His sexy expression from a minute ago is gone; I can't make out the one he is wearing now.

"If you're so sure you can resist me, then why not make the bet? What do you have to lose?"

"My virginity apparently," I snap back. The corner of his mouth rises, tilting his grin cockily.

"So it's a bet?"

I look away from him and back again, as if I'm considering it. "If you win, you get my virginity. What would I get for winning?" I'm not agreeing to this (that would be absurd); I'm just curious what he could offer me that would make him think that I'd want to.

He inclines his head closer, his warm breath tickling my skin. Touching his lips to the shell of my ear, he whispers, "You mean besides the pleasures of being seduced by me and my long, hard-"

"Yes, besides that." I cut him off before he says something crude. He leans back again, staring at me. I hope my eyes look like they are heated with anger and not passion.

"I was gonna say my hard-earned sexual expertise, but I like the way you think, Princess."

"You're disgusting."

"I'm not the one jumping to perverse conclusions. Although…" He cocked an eyebrow. "I can guarantee you've never seen a cock as big as mine." Instinctively biting my lip, I scowl and look away.

"You have got to be shitting me." He searches my face, wide-eyed. "You mean to tell me you've never seen your boyfriend's dick? Are you sure he's not gay?"

My eyes snap back to his furiously.

"Jesus, you really are a good girl," he whispers, more to himself than to me. "You've never seen a dick before?" When I don't respond, he moves his hand to the top button of his jeans. "Well, I can take care of that."

"If you whip that thing out, I swear to God I will scream!"

"Oh, it'll have you screaming all right," he smiles devilishly, but his hand moves back up to the wall. "What about you, Princess? How far have you let the boyfriend go? Hmm?" Turning my gaze to a spot on the opposite wall, I try to block out his husky whisperings. "Has he felt you up? Have you let him feel under your shirt and over the bra? Has he removed the shirt? The bra? Hands sliding south…under the jeans, over the panties, fingers slipping under the elastic-"

"Shut up." I can feel my cheeks burning crimson.

"That far, huh? Maybe he's not gay; maybe you're just a prude. I could change that if you-"

"I'm not going to make a bet with you, so you can just forget it."

"Why, because you're scared to? Admit it; you're so sure that I could never seduce you, but you won't agree to this little bet because you're scared that you'll actually like me."

"I _don't_ like you." The problem is I can't tell if I'm trying to convince him or myself.

"Are you sure? Those pretty little lips say one thing, but your body says another."

I look down; our bodies are flush up against one another. My hands have somehow found purchase on his chest again, close to resting on his shoulders. I snap them back quickly; a heat rushes to my cheeks for about the hundredth time today.

"Hmm, I wonder just how far that blush goes," he thinks aloud.

"You'll never know," I counter back. The ghost of a pirate smile lingers as he leans further toward me, his arms wrapping around my waist, bowing my body towards his. I can feel his warm breath on my lips.

He is going to kiss me. Oh, God, I _want_ him to kiss me.

"Bet me, and we'll find out." He hovers, waiting for me to agree to this ridiculous bet. If I answer yes, he'll kiss me; if I answer no, I don't know what he'll do. Probably kiss me anyway.

Part of me knows how wrong this is. There's a little voice inside my head screaming, _Edward, Edward, Edward_, while another part of me is rationalizing that this is all some sick twisted game Jacob is playing. He doesn't really like me; I'm just another conquest to him. Then there is this third part that's telling the other two parts to shut up and let him kiss me. But I am better than that.

"You never told me what I'd win."

"What do you want?"

"Your bike." Ha! Take that. He'll never agree. If there's one thing I'm sure of, it's his pride for his motorcycle. Dropping his arms, he pulls back, chuckling but leaving enough room between us that I could escape; yet, I find myself rooted to the spot.

"You want to bet me my bike?" he asks incredulously. Pride shoots its way through me; I have actually surprised him. Jacob, this arrogant, cocky, confident boy is taken aback by me.

"Why not? You want to bet me my virginity. The way I see it, your bike's the most important thing to you, and my virginity is a pretty damn important thing to me. It's only fair."

"Can you even drive a motorcycle?"

"I can learn." He takes another step back, looking at me and thoughtfully rubbing his hand along his jaw.

"What's the matter? Doubting your skills? Scared you'll lose your bike?"

His eyebrows shoot up but he doesn't respond.

"Just as I thought, you're all talk."

His eyes flash; snatching my wrist, he yanks me towards him. A small yelp escapes me. Crushing his body up against mine, he tightly winds a fist into my hair, his other hand on my lower back anchoring me to him. His body slides against mine as he brushes his nose and lips across my cheekbone. Slowly and sensually, he drifts toward my ear and down to my jaw. Parting his lips, his moist, hot breath caresses my sensitive skin, flowing down my neck, causing me to shiver. While slowly, oh so slowly, he glides to my shoulder. Never once does he kiss me; there's nothing but the feel of his lips caressing my skin. I have never felt anything like it. He raises his head, eyes leveling with mine. The ghost of his touch still tingles on my skin, his lips so close I can almost feel them. Then he laughs aloud. _Laughs_.

That's when I realize what he's done and what I've done in return. My hands are laced behind his neck, my head tilted back and my eyes have drifted half-closed.

He has seduced me. He's proven that he can do it. I've _let_ him do it.

Oh, he is _so_ on.

I shove his body back with all my power. I must've taken him off guard because he actually stumbles back a step.

"Fine, it's a bet," I snap.

"My bike against your virginity," he adds, sticking his hand out to mine. Still angry, I take it in a firm shake. "Three months. That's what? Thanksgiving break?"

Wait.

Did I just agree to this ridiculous thing?

Numbly, I nod in return.

"All right, I have until Thanksgiving break. Let's go over the conditions."

"Conditions?" My voice is much smaller than it had been before.

He wants to come up with conditions? I am in _way_ over my head. This bet is too serious for him. He doesn't want to lose his bike any more than I want to lose my virginity. Not that I really want his bike anyway.

"No cheating. You can't give it up to the boyfriend before then."

I feel a wave of guilt at the mention of Edward. I feel conflicted agreeing not to take things further with Edward. Not that I was planning on doing it with him anytime soon. Reluctantly, I would agree, but it feels wrong, agreeing not to have sex with Edward as part of a bet with another man. Then a terrifying thought occurs to me. No one can find out about this; not Alice, not Rosalie, and especially not Edward. It would kill him.

"Fine, but you can't tell anyone about this. Not. One. Person. Do you understand me? Edward can't find out about this!" My voice is panicked as I enforce my point by poking Jacob in the chest with each word.

"Fine. Is that your only condition?" I don't want it to be, I know I'll regret it later, but there isn't anything else I can honestly think of.

"Yeah, I guess so."

Walking toward the door, Jacob stops with one hand on the handle. He glances back at me.

"Don't worry, Princess. I'll be in you soon enough." With a final wink, he leaves me, alone and confused in the student lounge.

Oh God, what have I done?

~~-BoM-~~

I sit alone in the lounge until the lunch bell rings, waiting until everyone is out of the classroom before I venture out into the hallway. The last hour replays over and over in my mind.

What the hell was I thinking? I wasn't. He was so damn close to me that I lost all kinds of coherent thought. My stomach is in knots, and I literally feel like I'm going to have to run to the bathroom and retch. I can't stop running my fingers through my hair and over my face, anything to keep my hands moving or else they shake uncontrollably.

What about Edward? I can't even think about him without a new wave of remorse, panic, shame, and whatever other kind of emotion I'm having bottled up inside wash over me. Would he be ashamed of me if he knew? I'm ashamed of me. I feel wretched; I feel like the lowliest of all serpents ever to crawl the earth. I mean, who in their right mind bets on their own virginity?

Me. That's who.

How did I let him get me so worked up? How did I let him talk me into agreeing with this stupid bet? I started off so strong! I think. Well, I felt strong at first. I was holding my own; I was standing up for myself, saying no to peer pressure. Then he pulled me into him and ran his lips across my neck, and I lost all sense of coherent thought. I got pissed off and agreed before I even realized I had done it.

_It's fine_, I reassure myself. _It'll be okay_. It's a bet I can't lose. This is my virginity we're talking about. That's full out sex! I've gone nearly seventeen years without it; I can go three more months. Especially when it's someone I hate. All right, so I don't really hate him; I hate his crude behavior and the way he seems to make my body respond even when I don't want it to.

And that scares me.

But I can learn from this. Now I know better than to let him get this close to me ever again. I know not to get sucked into his games. For the next three months, he's going to try everything he can to get into my pants. He can sweet talk me, pretend he likes me, loves me, whatever. I won't let him get to me. I won't give in.

Yeah, easy for me to say after I just let him pressure me into taking this awful bet.

Okay, let's try to look at this rationally. We can't just strip down and do it anywhere. He'd have to get me alone first. Well, I'm not going to let that happen. The only time I have to see him is during school hours; no chance of having sex there. He doesn't have my number, so it's not like he can call me. There's always the chance that he could stop by my house, but I don't have to answer the door and let him in.

I'm beginning to feel better. There is ultimately no chance that he will be able to win. I just have to avoid him. Then, after three months, he'll lose the bet. I'll win his motorcycle. I smile at the thought of that. I wouldn't take it of course; though part of me wants to. He'd take my virginity in a second if it was offered. Why shouldn't I take his bike, if I win it? Besides the fact that it would lead to some interesting questions with no answers.

Okay, I'll let him keep his bike, _if_ he keeps his condition.

As long as he keeps his end of the bet and never tells, then no one but the two of us will ever know. Then in three months, I can live my life as if none of this ever happened.

~~-BoM-~~

Pretending everything is normal is easier than I thought it would be. When I spot Edward in front of my locker, my heart speeds up and a sweat breaks out, but I smile. He seems oblivious to my inner turmoil. He talks as if he doesn't notice my shaking hands and sweaty palms. We walk right through the cafeteria line together, and he carries my tray to our table of friends, just like always.

Edward sits down next to Mike Newton, a star basketball player and football player; he's sitting next to his girlfriend, Jessica Stanley, who's on the cheerleading squad with me and Angela. Angela Weber sits across the table with her boyfriend, Ben Cheney, and on her other side sits Alice. The only chair not yet filled is for Lauren Mallory, captain of the dance team. If she wasn't Jessica's best friend, she wouldn't sit here. It is no secret that she has a crush on Edward and hates me for dating him, and she certainly can't stand my best friend. Alice isn't part of the same 'social clique' as the rest of us. Alice's "band nerd" reputation corrupts Lauren's perfect lifestyle. Though she lets it slide only because Alice's father is a psychiatrist.

In layman's terms, Alice makes up for her "nerdism" by having money.

I tear my hot roll into tiny pieces rather than just eating it. I can't bring myself to eat anything. My stomach is still too tied up in knots to even consider getting anything down.

"It's too hot to have practice outside today. I think we should have it in the weights room, don't you?" Jessica's talking to Angela, who nods politely then looks at me for confirmation. I shrug, not really caring either way.

"That reminds me; coach said we're meeting after school to discuss practice times. He's thinking about holding practice at six, when it cools down," Edward directs his conversation at Ben, continuing Jessica's train of thought. Did I mention that Edward is captain of the football team? He's a wide receiver (whatever that means; the only position I know in football is quarterback).

Jessica continues to talk to Angela and Alice, who politely listen while Mike, Edward and Ben talk football. My mind can't seem to focus on anything as I continue to destroy what little food I have. Chopping up my chicken into little tiny pieces, I shove them under the mashed potatoes, giving the illusion that I ate something.

Lauren's voice giggles behind me, followed by a husky laugh that sounds all too familiar. Whipping around in my seat, I spot her quickly, her platinum blonde hair practically glowing in the florescent lighting. She's leaning up against the cafeteria wall, biting her lip and twirling her hair while Jacob stands over her, smiling - his dazzling smile of course. Wasn't it only ten minutes ago that he was standing in nearly that same position with me?

Hot rage and embarrassment flood through me. Have I deluded myself into thinking that I'm the only girl he flirts with? I know he's a player. I know he uses women and throws them away. That's what his type does. I just didn't expect him to replace me in ten minutes.

What am I talking about? _Replace_ me? It's not like we're a couple or anything! We made a stupid bet; a bet that he doesn't seem to be taking very seriously at the moment. Good. Maybe it was all just a joke before. Maybe he walked out of the door laughing because I thought the bet was real when it _clearly_ wasn't. I mean, he can't win this thing with me by doing other girls.

"Bella, were you listening?"

I flip back around in my seat, Edward recapturing my attention.

"What?"

"I said I'm sorry about earlier. I didn't mean to upset you." His wounded eyes look into mine as I begin searching my mind for what he could be talking about. He glances down at the demolished food on my plate, my hands wringing the small napkin into a twisted cord, and I realize what he's saying. I guess he has noticed my erratic behavior, but he thinks he's the cause of it, because he told me he loved me.

"Oh, no, I'm not upset about that." Dropping the napkin, I place my hand over his.

"Then what's been bothering you all morning?"

Damn, I really need to work on hiding my emotions. I hesitate, opening my mouth, but no words come out. I can't come up with an adequate lie. Thank goodness, I don't have to. Lauren's high pitch giggle escalates as Jacob pulls out her chair. She unceremoniously rubs her breasts against his body as she moves to sit down, flirtatiously batting her eyelashes and smiling up at him.

"I'll be sure to bring my car in for a tune up later," she winks. "Say around six-ish?"

"Looking forward to it," he replies, glancing up from Lauren and straight at me with a knowing glint in his eyes and a cocky grin. Edward's hand tightens around mine, bringing me closer to him as he slides an arm around my waist. Jacob's eyes sweep from me to Edward then back again, winking at me before squeezing Lauren's shoulder and stomping off. The action is subtle enough it seems Edward and I are the only ones who notice.

"Lauren!" Jessica squeals.

"What?" she says, as though she doesn't notice everyone's shocked eyes staring at her. Except for mine; I'm not sure what kind of emotion my face is portraying. Possibly terror with a twinge of confusion (but not jealousy, no, definitely not jealousy).

"Jacob Black?" Jessica's voice is reaching a new octave as she squeals.

"He's hot," she shrugs nonchalantly.

"He's also a criminal. I heard he got kicked out of school last year for beating the shit out of some senior," Mike adds.

"He couldn't have been kicked out, or he wouldn't be allowed to come back this year," Angela points out.

"I heard he dropped out," Ben explains, "right after he got busted for possession."

"That auto shop he works at was raided. Everyone knows that business is shady," says Mike.

"Is it true that he's part of some biker gang in La Push?" Alice asks.

"That's the rumor," Ben confirms.

Jessica gasps loudly. "You're not really going to see him tonight, are you, Lauren?"

"Of course I am. Did you see that body? Yum!"

"You are so bad!" Jessica and Lauren fall into a fit of giggles while the rest of us look at each other like they've gone insane.

"I didn't like the way he looked at you," Edward whispers in my ear. "Promise me you'll stay away from him?"

Oh, Edward, that was my plan all along. "Of course."

* * *

_**A/N: **Thank you all so much for the positive reviews! I just want to mention that Jacob's POV in the last chapter occurs at the same time as Bella's POV. Sorry, if I confused anyone it's my fault that I wasn't clear enough so I went back and added the parenthesis. Hope you enjoyed this chapter as much as I did. _


	3. Chapter 3

The rest of the afternoon is pretty uneventful; my next three classes are (thank goodness) Jacob free. My anxiety quietly slips away as the day drones on. Without Jacob in close vicinity, I find that I'm able to concentrate on school. Finally, heading to my last class, I make my way down to the girl's locker room to change for Coach Clapp's weights with Jessica on my heels.

"Can you believe Lauren is actually going to go to La Push tonight? That girl is crazy! I don't care how fine that boy is, I would never get involved with a gangbanger!" I don't know how to reply. To be honest, I feel guilty. Only a few hours ago, I imagined being with him, in the way he described it.

I'm not thrilled about the idea of Lauren going to Jacob's auto shop just to sleep with him. I don't want to think about Jacob sleeping with any girls at all, let alone Lauren. Now I'm picturing it. I have this horrible mental image of Jacob in greasy overalls slamming Lauren into a wall and having his way with her. It isn't sweet and gentle, the way he described he would make love to me. It's - to use his term - fucking.

It's not like I'm jealous. What right do I have to be jealous? Should he be celibate just because he expressed his interest in me? The correct answer is no. I have no right to expect that of him, but I want the answer to be yes. He should be celibate. If he wants to get with me, that's the way to go. If he really likes me, he wouldn't be doing other girls. But yet again, I need to remind myself, he doesn't really want me. Not in the relationship kind of way. He just wants a challenge. I'm the girl he can't have - the good girl. Once he 'has' me, he'd drop me faster than a hot potato.

"Although, I bet a guy like Jacob could really show a girl a good time. Don't you think, Bella? I mean, he's been around the block more than a few times; surely he's picked up a few tricks! Guess we'll find out tomorrow, huh? Lauren's always been the kiss and tell kind."

I gulp at her usage of the word 'bet.' Not trusting myself to speak, I continue changing while listening to Jess ramble on about Lauren and Jacob's tryst later tonight, my stomach churning more and more each minute.

The weights room is located in the loft of the gymnasium, up the stairs and behind the bleachers. Jess and I don't waste much time in starting our work out routine. Couch Clapp frees us to use the room however we chose, as long as we spend the time working out and not goofing off.

"Oh my God! Speak of the devil," Jessica shrieks. "Look!"

I shouldn't be surprised, but tell that to my racing heart. Jacob saunters up the steps into the weight room, wearing the same black jeans and tee shirt. He hasn't changed, though now I understand why. If his father wouldn't let him inside for his backpack, it's no wonder he is still in the same clothes.

My first instinct is to hide, but I quickly realize how silly that would be (besides, there's no where to go) and how that would raise suspicion with Jess. With a heavy sigh, I reside myself to my fate. Jacob will notice me sooner or later, but I'm hoping for later. Much, much later, like maybe the end of the semester.

"Don't stare, Jess."

"Why not? Lauren was right. He is one hell of a fine piece of ass."

"He's an ass all right."

She's unabashedly checking him out.

"Jess, stop staring! I don't want him to come over here."

"Please, Bella, I know you and Edward are like totally 'in love' and only have eyes for each other or whatever, but even _you_ have to admit that Jacob is panty-dropping gorgeous."

"Okay, yeah, he's attractive, but that doesn't change the fact that he's a jerk."

"True, but could you imagine how hot the sex would be? I bet he's the total dominating type." There's that word again. I swear I'll cringe every time I hear the word 'bet' from here on out.

"Hey, Jacob," Jessica stage whispers, "you can dominate me anytime you want!"

"Shh! Jessica! He'll hear you!" Shielding my face with my hand, I turn my back to him. As if he couldn't see me hiding behind my tiny hand. _Brilliant, Bella_.

"Oh my God, he's looking!"

"What?" I peek around slowly, bringing down my hand. Yep. There he is, staring at me and oozing every bit of sex that Jessica claims he is. "I could kill you," I mutter murderously.

"Sorry, I didn't think he'd hear me."

"Whatever. Come on, let's go do bench." Without waiting to see if she's following me, I walk over to the bench press, picking up two ten pound weights and sliding them onto the bar. Straddling the bench, I lay back, gripping the bar above me.

"Need a spot?"

A small whimper escapes me. Tilting my head back at an odd angle, I get an upside down view of Jacob.

"Where's Jessica?" Sitting upright, I look for the girl who's supposed to be my partner and friend but left me for the big bad wolf to find.

"She's occupied." He points to the corner by the dumbbells, where Jessica is shamelessly flirting with Tyler Crowley. "Come on, I'll spot you."

Reluctantly, I lay back down on the bench, gripping onto the bar and fighting to keep my eyes locked on it and not Jacob towering above me. As I lift the bar and begin to bring it down, I start to realize the compromising position I'm in. Not only am I lying on my back with my legs spread open, straddling the small bench, but I'm also accentuating my breasts with each repetition. Thank God the redness in my face can be accredited to my work out and not my discomfort.

"I didn't expect a girl like you to take weights," he muses.

"That was your first mistake," I breathe. "You shouldn't expect anything from me." _Especially sex_, I mentally tack on, hoping Jacob will catch my hidden meaning.

"Come on, Princess, we both know what I expect." He gives me a piercing glare.

"It's a requirement." I'm not sure if we're still using innuendos, so I add, "For cheerleading."

"What are you benching? 110? That's impressive. Sexy too."

I ignore him.

"It's beneficial that I know how much you can handle, since iron's not the only thing you'll be pumping." The bar almost slips my grip; his hot hands wrap around mine to steady it. He helps me replace the bar. I try to remove my hands, but Jacob grips harder, keeping them there.

"Let go," I seethe, glaring at his upside-down head. He leans over the bar, his face only a few inches from me and his hands still holding their death grip on mine.

"You know, you're hot when you're angry, Princess."

"Why do you keep calling me Princess?"

"Call me. I'll let you know."

"Excuse me?" Okay, I'm not dumb. I know what he said, but he can't be serious.

"Go out with me tonight." His soft tone is back; the sweet, husky voice sounds pleading.

"Don't you already have plans for this evening?" I can't keep the cynical edge out of my voice.

"I'd rather make plans with you." His eyes are begging mine.

"I can't." It actually hurts me to say no to those puppy dog eyes. God, where is my willpower? _Bella Marie Swan,_ I chide myself. _Do not let yourself get sucked into his games! He's just trying to deflower you! _Yeah, I just said deflower. I'm an eighty year old woman now.

"I'll wait for you after school," he persists.

"I have practice after school."

"Skip it."

"I can't skip practice!" I'd be in a ton of trouble if I did. Miss Davenport would have me running laps the next practice and sitting out a quarter of a game if I miss without a permission slip.

"Do you always do what you're supposed to?" he asks.

"Not always."

"Yeah, right. I bet you've never even skipped school before."

"I've skipped school before." Once, when I was nine.

"Uh huh, and I'm sure you've never broken the rules."

"I've broken rules before."

"Okay, when?"

"I- well, I'm sure it's happened."

"That's what I thought. Don't worry, Princess. When I take you out, we'll do something bad. I'll show you how _good_ it feels." His innuendo doesn't escape my attention. Though I have no good response, I don't need one. Jacob straightens up and walks away, acting as if nothing has transpired between us.

He leaves me sitting on the bench, hot, flustered, angry, and confused.

He has to stop doing that to me.

~~-BoM-~~

"All right, girl's, we'll run it one more time then you're free to go," our coach, Miss Davenport, calls at us from her bench. She got the English teaching position two years ago, straight out of college, where she was on a nationally ranked cheerleading squad. She brought all of her experience and competitiveness with her when she took over our team. We've been working on our stunting routine nonstop for the past three hours so we'll be ready for the half-time show at the game next Friday. Jessica mutters obscenities under her breath as we get into our formations, waiting on the music to replay.

Practice is a welcome reprieve for me. I don't have time to obsess about the day, the bet, Edward, or even about Jacob's insistence. My movements are automatic as I walk through each step, each stunt, and each chant. My mind has shut down completely and focuses only on the tasks ahead of me. It's important to pay attention, to be aware of my surroundings and the girls that I carry. One wrong move from me could cause a ripple effect resulting in someone getting seriously injured. Luckily, our squad has never dealt with such an injury, but we've had our fair share of bruises, black eyes, and broken bones over the years.

Unfortunately, the time finally comes to an end. Practice is over. My nerves come back full force as I mechanically move to gather my belongings. It's nearing six, the time Lauren told Jacob she'd meet up with him. I try not to think about it, but the images of them together progress in my mind. My imagination runs with it as I picture him taking her against the wall, on the hood of her car, and even on the grease-stained concrete.

While most of the girls grab their things and run, I stay behind, offering to help Miss Davenport put away the mats. Edward said at lunch that his practice was switched to six; if I wait a few more minutes, I'll be able to speak to him before I head home. Maybe it's for selfish reasons, but I want to see him, to kiss him, hoping that it'll be enough to clear all my unwanted thoughts of Jacob.

"Thank you for your help, Bella," Miss Davenport says as she locks the storage closet. "I'll see you tomorrow."

"See you," I reply, checking the time on my cell phone.

Picking up my bags, I step out of the gym, running straight into a hard chest. I stumble with nowhere to go. The heavy gym doors slam behind me as I drop my bags to the floor. For a second, I'm sandwiched between hard wooden doors and a warm chest. I try to move sideways, unsuccessfully, as two russet arms wrap around my middle.

"Jesus Christ!" I screech. "What is it with you? Do you have a tracking device on me or something? How is it you keep popping up everywhere?"

"Hello to you too, Princess. I take it you missed me," he laughs.

"How can I miss you when you won't go away?" I shove hard against his chest; it's obvious that he willingly steps backwards. I bend down to retrieve my bags, but Jacob snatches them up first.

"Give those back."

"Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I didn't carry your bags?"

"You're not a gentleman." I think that's obvious.

"Fair enough. I'll use your bags as leverage. This way you have to come with me."

"Come with you where?"

He smirks, taking a different meaning from my words than I intended.

"I can have you _coming_ anywhere you want, Princess. But aren't you getting ahead of yourself? I thought you'd want dinner first. Not that I'm complaining."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," I reiterate.

"What about our date?" He tsks at me. "Don't tell me you forgot."

"Aren't you running late on your date with Lauren?" This time I tsk. "Don't tell me you forgot about her." Though on the inside, I can't describe the lightness I feel knowing that he isn't at the garage waiting on Lauren, but standing here with me.

"Lauren? Oh right, the easy blonde." He waves his hand like he's swatting at a fly. "Why would I want her when I can have you?"

"She's very pretty," I add by way of answer.

"You're prettier." His words are too sincere, too meaningful, as if he actually believes them. I can't help it; I roll my eyes. Lauren's gorgeous; we're talking Victoria Secret swimsuit model gorgeous. I'm not even close to that pretty.

I start to walk away, momentarily forgetting he is still holding my bags ransom on his shoulder. His hand reaches out, grabbing my wrist and stopping me.

"Bella!" a third voice calls.

Jacob drops my wrist as I twist around to see Edward racing toward us. With a sigh of relief, I step toward his rapidly approaching figure. He doesn't waste any time; wrapping his arms tightly around my back, he crushes me against his chest and kisses me with fervor. Edward's hands rise to my neck, tilting my head back and deepening the kiss. I'm surprised and more than a little aware of Jacob's presence standing beside us as Edward's tongue sweeps my own. A sound from Jacob, similar to a snort, pulls us apart.

With his hands on my cheeks and his eyes boring into mine, Edward asks, "Bella, are you all right?"

"Ye-"

"She's fine," Jacob snaps. "I was just offering to walk her to her car."

Edward's eyes shoot daggers at Jacob as he protectively tucks me into his chest.

"No need. I'm here now." A pained smile forms on Edward's lips as he tries to contain his anger and remain civil. Where Jacob lacks in manners, Edward more than makes up for them. "I'd be more than happy to walk Bella."

"She's all yours." _For now_. He didn't say the words, but I can hear the implication in his voice as he turns, adding with a wink, "I'll see you tomorrow, Beautiful."

Edward clears his throat. "I'll take those, if you don't mind." He points to my bags. Jacob smirks as he slides them off his shoulder, roughly tossing them to Edward.

Once Jacob is out of hearing range, Edward speaks. "Bella, you promised me you'd stay away from him."

"I did! I was! It's not like I knew he'd be standing out here!"

"What the hell was he doing carrying your bags?" He isn't angry. That's the thing about Edward; he hardly ever gets angry. He's never even raised his voice to me before.

"He just…" I wave my arms helplessly. "…took them." Edward pinches the bridge of his nose, squeezing his eyes shut.

"When I saw him grab you, I-" His voice cracks, and immediately, I feel guilty.

"Edward," I coo, running my hands up and down his arms in a soothing motion. "It's all right."

"Oh, Bella, what am I going to do with you?"

I shrug weakly.

"Do me a favor? Next time you see him, walk the other way."

"Sounds like a plan to me." And it did. Avoiding Jacob in class everyday should be fairly easy, as long as I keep myself busy. But avoiding him outside of class will be much harder. I know that now.

"Come on. Let's get you to your car." I follow Edward out to the jock lot solicitously.

Outside of the doors, I consult the time on my phone. "Oh, you're going to be late. You don't have to walk me to my car. Hurry before you get in trouble." I grip the straps of my bags in a futile attempt to relieve Edward of them.

"Coach won't mind if I'm a few minutes late. Besides, I don't want to risk that asshole following you out here." His eyes rake over the lot as if he expects Jacob to jump out from behind a car.

I can't really argue, knowing full well that Jacob could come out here and attempt to take me with him again. I'm glad Edward is keeping that from happening, though I can't deny the pang of regret too. I wonder idly where Jacob would have taken me, what we would have done if I had gone with him. Would he have actually tried to take me on a date? Or would it have been his cocky, no-nonsense, let's-get-down-to-business, I'm-going-to-rip-your-clothes-off routine?

Edward opens my car door for me. Throwing my bags into the passenger seat, he gently tugs me toward him. I can't help but smile as his hands slide up and down my sides lovingly. Tilting his head to the side, he pulls me in for a tender kiss. I return it ardently, pushing Jacob Black to the furthest recesses of my mind and concentrating only on Edward, this moment, this feeling, and this kiss. Sensing my passion, Edward tightens his hold on me, pulling me in closer as his hands slide under the hem of my shirt, rising up and brushing my ribs while his thumbs caress the swell of my breasts through my sports bra.

"Edward," I murmur against his lips, "you have to go." Breathlessly, he pulls away, resting his forehead against mine and nodding.

"I'll call you tonight, babe," he whispers as he turns to leave.

~~-BoM-~~

As much as I try to shove Jacob out of my mind, it simply isn't happening. Half way home, I drive past the Forks auto shop, reminding me of Lauren and her planned rendezvous with Jacob. A smile plays at my lips as I think about Lauren's reaction when she finds out Jacob stood her up. But suddenly, a new thought forms in my mind: what if he doesn't stand her up? It's only a little after six now; he could easily have left the school and driven to the garage to meet her.

I groan loudly, the noise reverberating off the walls of my tiny car. The pictures of him and Lauren together race through my mind again like a bad porno. Before I realize what I'm doing, I turn around, leading the Mustang straight to La Push.

I'm not exactly sure where the auto shop is located, but La Push is small enough that it doesn't take much time before "Uley's Auto Repair" comes into view. I pull over about a half a block away, scanning for Lauren's car or Jacob's motorcycle while telling myself I don't really care. But if I don't care, then why am I here?

I try to convince myself that I only care because of the bet. If I see him use and toss Lauren, then maybe that will help me get this all into perspective. He will use me the same way he will use her. Then I can get angry and use that as my ammunition against him to keep myself from falling into his trap. But really, I feel like a stalker.

There are several motorcycles parked outside of the garage. From this distance, I have no way of knowing which one is Jacob's. Not that I'd know if I was standing right in front of it either. I don't know a thing about bikes (which is pretty pathetic when you think about the fact that I'd essentially be winning his bike in the bet). Lauren's car isn't sitting outside either. That leads me to believe one of three things: one, her car is sitting inside the garage. Two, she and Jacob already left in it. Or three (and the one I'm hoping for) she left after being horribly humiliated when she realized she had been stood up.

I want to drive by slowly, checking inside the windows and open garage doors exactly like Cruella DeVille in _101 Dalmatians_, though I know my car is too recognizable. Not only would the light blue color be noticeable, but the "THAXDAD" license plate is a dead giveaway. If I drive by at normal speed, I'll be able to glance inside, but I still can't guarantee that I won't be seen.

A familiarly loud roar rumbles from within the garage. An all-black motorcycle and similarly dressed rider roll out, halting for a second outside of the doors as the rider shouts over his shoulder. It's Jacob. And he's alone. I almost squeal in excitement and relief until I realize how easily he could see me here. My mind races at a hundred miles an hour. I have no plan of escape. I can't turn around without being noticed. I can't go straight without passing right in front of him. Basically, I'm a sitting duck. Jacob straightens, revving the engine of his bike as he checks in the opposite direction to pull out, then looks straight at me. I dart down in my seat, tucking my head underneath the steering wheel by my knees.

_Oh God, oh God, oh God. Did he see me?_

I wait, cross my fingers and pray he didn't see me as I strain to hear the sound of the motorcycle growing fainter as it drives off into the distance. But it doesn't happen. In fact, I don't hear the roar of the motorcycle at all anymore. Too terrified to sit up and look, I stay in my crouched position with my eyes squeezed shut, as if that will help me disappear.

A sharp tap comes from my driver's window; my eyes shoot open as I jump, busting my head on the steering wheel. Cursing under my breath, I roll down the window.

"Drop something?" Jacob asks. Grateful that he supplied the perfect lie, I bite my lip and nod.

"Yeah, my uh, cell phone." I'm an awful liar; even when provided with the perfect lie, I can never execute it. Jacob's gaze shifts to my passenger seat, where my cell phone is laying out openly.

Resting his arms on the window sill, he leans in, practically climbing into the car with me. "So, Princess, did you come here to settle our bet?"

"No," I practically shout. "I was just, uh, driving by when I- uh- dropped my cell phone, and um…" I swallow as Jacob nods accordingly, leaning closer to me. I pull further away. "It's dangerous to try and bend down while driving, so I pulled over." Jacob's still nodding, but his eyes shift to my lips. His upper body is leaning toward me while I press my back against the console, getting as far away from him as I can. "Would you stop that please?" My words are flat and anxious and not at all commanding.

"Stop what?" His husky voice is in a whisper. Tilting his head slightly, he moves those final few inches toward me. He hesitates, and I wait. I can feel his hot breath against my lips as my clouded brain finally screams loud and clear, _he's waiting on _you_ to kiss _him_! _

My hands move (against my will) to his shoulders. My eyelids flutter shut. I am going to close the gap between us; I am moving to kiss him when I hear a loud wolf whistle.

Metaphorically, you could say the sharp sound busted our bubble.

I turn my face toward the shop, where Lauren Mallory is exiting her car, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she walks inside like she owns the place. Two men standing by the garage door stare at her with their mouths agape. And why shouldn't they? She's wearing six inch heels, a four inch mini skirt, and a painted-on tube top.

"Looks like your date's here," I say, not bothering to cover the acid leaking out of my tone.

"She doesn't have to be. I don't think she saw us here. I can still go with you." He adds sweetly, "I'd rather go with you."

Shit, I hadn't thought about her seeing me here. I feel slightly relieved before Edward's name flashes through the front of my mind. The guilt of the kiss that almost happened causes my stomach to churn. I promised myself I'd avoid Jacob, I promised Edward, and here I am, practically looking for him! Almost kissing him! I can't trust myself around him. I need to get away. I need to go home. Now.

"I can't. I have to go home. Charlie- my dad's waiting for me." I don't wait for an answer as I briskly sit up, throwing the car into drive. I start to turn to face Jacob, to say good bye, but the thought of those lips kissing Lauren's stops me.

"Are you going to sleep with her?" I whisper, staring at my hands on the wheel and dreading the answer.

"Are you going to leave?"

"Yes," I answer hesitantly.

"Then why do you care?"

"I don't want you to sleep with her." I know it's stupid. I know it's unfair and completely selfish, but I said it anyway.

"You don't want me to fuck _her_?" His tone isn't hard, but it isn't soft either. His tough exterior is still in complete control. "Or fuck anyone who isn't you?"

Anyone really, but I can't say that.

"Just not her." My mouth feels dry and my tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth as I try to swallow.

"Go home, Princess. I'll see you tomorrow." Without waiting for a response, he walks away, back to the garage where Lauren is waiting. With her legs spread open no doubt.

~~-BoM-~~

By lunch, I have successfully managed to avoid Jacob Black. First hour, I pulled Alice up a few rows, settling us in the middle of the room and several chairs away from him. Second hour, I rushed into the classroom early and immediately sat next to a girl who wouldn't be frightened by Jacob's scary stare to move away like Eric Yorkie was.

Homeroom was the easiest of all to avoid him. I asked Mrs. Clark for a library pass so I could spend the whole hour in a little cubby reading and working on homework.

Edward passes me my lunch tray as we sit down with our usual group. Jessica titters away with Mike until Lauren throws herself down between me and Jessica. Jess' eyes snap to her friend, silently requesting the details of her tryst with Jacob. When Lauren doesn't say anything, Jessica squeals.

"So? What happened last night? Did you do the dirty? I want details!"

I try to feign indifference, pretending like I have no interest in their gossip, but the truth is, I'm going to hang on to every word. I need to know if Jacob had sex with her. I don't know why, but I do.

I hardly slept at all last night; each time I fell asleep, I was assaulted with dreams of Jacob ripping off Lauren's clothes. Once awake, I'd lie there, picturing the events in the way that I imagined they would go. The scenarios were constantly changing from Jacob choosing to sleep with her, to Jacob asking her to leave. My favorites were the ones where he told her to get a life and get out, but I doubt those actually happened.

"A lady never kisses and tells," Lauren responds haughtily.

"That's never stopped you before," Mike mutters.

Lauren shoots him a dirty look.

"Oh, please tell me," Jessica pouts. "Was he as good as we thought?"

A wicked smile spreads across Lauren's lips, causing my stomach to drop.

"He was better! Oh my God, Jess, those hands! Those giant hands, they knew exactly where to touch me and exactly how!" She demonstrates by closing her eyes and running her hands down her own chest, across her abdomen, and back up her arms. "And he kissed me, so, so, passionately. It was like a scene from a movie - how in sync we were with each other."

"Was he?" Jessica spreads her palms a few inches apart, silently asking his size. I fight a blush on her behalf.

"Bigger," Lauren smiles.

"And did you…" Jess leans in closer to Lauren's ear, asking the more intimate details surely. I strain to listen but barely catch the words.

"Oh yes," Lauren sighs, "several times. I never knew I could have so many during!"

I feel sick. I can honestly feel the color draining from my face, my heart pounding in my ears, and a cold sweat breaks out across my skin. How could Jacob do it? How could he be so close to kissing me and then sleep with Lauren?

"Bella? Baby, are you all right? You're as white as a ghost." Edward's concern brings me back to the present. Though I feel like most my energy has drained out of me, I manage a small smile.

"Yeah, no, I'm okay. I don't know what came over me. I felt a little dizzy all of a sudden, but I'm feeling better now."

His hands rake up my arms to my neck. Pulling me a little closer, he kisses me on the forehead.

"Are you sure you're all right? You feel a little warm. Maybe we should take you to the nurse?"

"No, Edward. I'm fine now, really. I think it's because I skipped breakfast this morning. You know me, always running late. I didn't have time to eat," I lie.

"Hmm, I guess I'll have to start bringing you donuts to school. I don't know why we never thought of it before; it'll save you some time in the mornings," he jokes, or at least I think he's joking. Knowing Edward though, he's probably serious; he would leave ten minutes early just to get me some fresh donuts in the morning.

"Don't be silly, Edward. You don't need to bring me donuts every morning. Once a week is enough," I wink, playfully letting him know I'm kidding.

"Are you going to La Push again soon?" I overhear Jessica ask.

"After last night, it'll only be a matter of minutes until Jake begs for me to come back!"

I cough to stifling my groan.

~~-BoM-~~

I'm nervous about going to weight lifting. Avoiding Jacob in our other three classes had been relatively simple. Avoiding him in a class where we're basically allowed to do whatever we want? It proves to be much harder.

I stick to Jessica like glue, shamelessly using her as a buffer between me and Jacob. I pray he won't bother me with Jessica standing around, and so far, he hasn't. He's spent most of the hour talking to Tyler Crowley and lifting around 250 pounds of weights - by far the most out of everyone in the class.

To be completely honest, I'm bothered by Jacob sleeping with Lauren. Not that I have any right to be. I have Edward. But I feel hurt, confused, and mostly angry. I'm angry at myself for thinking he wouldn't do it just because I asked. I'm angry at him for doing it right after he tried to kiss me, right after he asked me out, and right after I asked him not to sleep with her.

The anger is easier to hold on to.

So I hold onto it.

I'm avoiding Jacob Black at all costs. If he crosses the room to lift at a station next to me, I move to the opposite corner. If he walks past me, I find any excuse I can to turn around.

Toward the end of class, I begin to let my guard down. This whole hour, I've been obsessively watching Jacob, and he's never once looked my way. Our final station is in the corner of the room, a slightly enclosed area due to the shelves of dumbbells. Jessica sits on the bench a few feet away from me, carefully examining her nails with two, unused, five pound dumbbells sitting next to her, while I actually workout with mine.

"Hey."

My arm stops in mid curl as a gust of warm air brushes my ear. Jacob stands directly behind me, maneuvering his body slightly past mine to appear as though he was only reaching for a twenty-five pound dumbbell.

I turn my back to him, facing the mirror and continuing my curls, pretending he isn't there. Not that I can really do that. Even when avoiding his reflection in the mirror, I'm completely in tune to exactly where he is standing behind me. The heat radiates off of his body in waves. My cheeks flush as my anger inflates with him as much as it does with myself. Why do I allow myself to get so worked up around him?

"Are you trying to ignore me, Princess?" When I don't respond he continues, sidling up next to me and mimicking my movements as he works on his curls. My gaze shoots to Jessica, who is now lying back on the bench with her eyes closed, seemingly oblivious to our conversation a few feet away.

"Let me guess, the boyfriend told you to stay away from me." His wolfish smile spreads, showing those perfect, gleaming white teeth. I half expect to see fangs.

My eyes lock with his in the reflection of the mirror, but I quickly break the gaze, choosing instead to switch exercises and watch my extended arms.

"Doucheward's worried, huh?" He continues talking as though I answered. "That's good; he should be. I can show you things that he's never even dreamed of."

I sigh heavily, letting him know without speaking that I'm annoyed. Does everything have to be about sex with him? _Yes, yes it does_, my inner voice speaks.

His demeanor seems to change. Shifting his weight slightly, he stops lifting. Chancing a glance at his refection, I notice a hint of vulnerability, but as quickly as it comes, it's gone.

"I'm disappointed in you, Princess. I didn't think you needed his permission to talk to other men."

"I-" I catch myself. He's infuriating! I know what he's doing. He's trying to piss me off enough that I'll talk to him. But I won't. He's won our previous rounds. I won't let him win this one too.

He raises his eyebrows at me. I want to think he's impressed, but honestly, I think he takes my slip as his own win because another smirk is crossing his lips.

Moving toward the shelves, I decide I'm done. I'm done working out and done listening to Jacob's incorrigible arrogance.

As I'm walking passed, Jacob's hand encircles my arm, and he leans to whisper in my ear, "It won't work, you know. You can't avoid me forever."

His words sound suspiciously like a threat.

* * *

**A/N:** Oh my goodness you guys. I am _amazed _at the responses I got! Hope you enjoyed this chapter! I have a basic idea outlined for this story, but the characters and events still surprise even me. I'm hoping to post chapter 4 next week. Might take me some time though because Jacob's bad boy persona is increasingly difficult to write. *Hugs!*


	4. Chapter 4

When Friday morning slowly made its appearance, I fought to get out of bed. Ever since I'd made the bet with Jacob, my beauty sleep had suffered. Not only my sleep, but my school work as well. Jacob used his scary stare to sit behind me again in History this morning. I ignored him the best I could, but I shivered whenever his hot breath blew against my skin.

I've been able to avoid him during English, but only if I rush. Edward still insists on walking me to my classes, which is starting to be a problem. I used the excuse twice that I needed to hurry to talk to Miss Davenport about cheerleading practice before class started, but I can't keep up the ruse forever. And Mrs. Clark is beginning to get suspicious of my reoccurring library requests in homeroom.

In short: I'm screwed.

Jacob's threatening words continue to reverberate through my mind, "_You can't avoid me forever."_

What sucks is he seems to be right. I thought avoiding him would be easy, and maybe over time, he'd start to forget about this stupid bet. I was fooling myself. There's no way he's going to let it go. And even though I want to tell him I was just kidding and play the whole thing off as some stupid joke, I have my pride too. I want to prove to myself that I can do it. I want to win the bet and then throw it in his face.

The emotions I have walking into homeroom are probably similar to someone walking down death row. I have no choice but to submit to my fate. There's no way Mrs. Clark will give me a pass to the library today. I'm doomed to sit next to Jacob and his stare for the whole hour.

Piling up my books and notebooks around me, I plan on submerging myself into my homework, hoping that it will be enough to deflect any of Jacob's advances. Nervous anticipation keeps my knees bouncing. I know he'll be entering at any moment, but I refuse to watch the door. About thirty seconds after the tardy bell rings, the door swings open. I don't have to look up to know it's him. The chair scrapes across the linoleum as Jacob sits down, noisily throwing his bag on top of the table and scratching the floor again as he lurches the chair forward. Obviously he's making a spectacle of the fact that he's late and daring anyone to notice. Does he have to defy _everyone_ at _every_ turn?

Strategically, I place my bag into the middle of the table. It's a small barrier, but it's enough of one that he can't scoot closer and 'accidentally' touch me.

To my surprise, Jake actually takes out a slip of paper and a book. As he begins writing, I turn back to my own work. Seconds later, a folded-up slip of paper is being tucked under my left hand. I slide it back towards Jacob without so much as a glance.

He glides it back.

I can see where this is going.

Ignoring the note, I turn back to my book, frustrated and re-reading the same paragraph for the fourth time in a row. The words all seem to jumble together as my brain keeps trying to focus on Jacob and what on earth his note could say. As I'm debating on whether or not I should just look at it, my phone vibrates in my bag.

Yes, a distraction!

Flipping open my phone, I quickly check my text messages.

_**Football practice from 6-9 tonight. See you after? – Edward**_

_**Charlie works late. I'll wait up for you. ; )**_

I can't keep the goofy grin off of my face as I slide my phone back into the outer pocket of my bag. I catch Jacob's eyes lingering on my cell phone for a beat too long; they turn to mine, cocking an eyebrow in silent question.

As if I would tell him who I was texting. He has no right to know.

Turning back to my book, I notice the note sitting half way between Jacob and me. My curiosity wants me to pick it up and read it, but my conscience is telling me not to.

My curiosity wins as I unfold the small sheet.

_**Admit it, Princess, you're into me as much as I want to be in you. Pick you up at 6. **_

Crumpling up the paper, I throw it at him. If that's not a 'no,' I don't know what is. He catches it easily, chuckling at my appalled expression.

Why did I even look?

~~-BoM-~~

"What are your plans tonight, Bella?" Angela asks while whisking off her sweaty tee shirt and throwing it into her gym bag. I follow with my own damp shirt. Miss Davenport wasted no effort with us today during routines.

"Edward's coming over later, after football practice. What about you? Are you seeing Ben tonight?"

At the mention of Ben, Angela's face brightens, a large smile pulling up her lips. "Yeah, I promised my mom I'd watch the twins, so Ben's going to come by after they're in bed." After slipping on a clean shirt and pair of shorts, Angela and I are on our way out to the parking lot.

Aside from a single wink during weights (when Jacob caught me staring at his biceps), he hasn't spoken to me since- well, technically, he hasn't spoken to me at all today. He's been around but not in his usual charming manor. If I didn't know any better, I'd say _he_ was avoiding _me_ this afternoon.

Even during lunch, he was MIA. Poor Lauren didn't seem to know what to do with herself. For the past two days, I've been forced to endure her fluttering her eyelashes and eye-fucking him across the room. The fact that he blew off her advances left me feeling a little relieved and bothered at the same time. He did exactly what I thought he would do. He got what he wanted from her and dropped her.

Tossing my things into the back seat of my car and hollering a good bye to Angela, I notice a slip of paper stuck under my windshield wiper. A smile plays at my lips at the thought of Edward leaving me a sweet message. I open it greedily.

_**Don't forget, I'll see you tonight.**_

Hmm, well, that isn't as sweet as I expected.

And why would Edward think I'd forget?

My car lets out an odd grinding sound as I start it up. Being a girl that knows absolutely nothing about cars, I choose to ignore it but make a mental note to have Charlie look at it tomorrow morning before he goes to work. As I'm driving home, my thoughts automatically drift to Jacob. As much as I try to force him out of my head, he's always there.

That's just like him too, always popping up when I least expect it.

A vibration cuts through my thoughts as my car starts sputtering, shaking me violently. Pulling over to the shoulder of the road, I cut the engine.

What the heck is wrong with the Mustang? It's a brand new car! It's not supposed to be having these kinds of problems yet.

After waiting a minute, I try to restart the engine. It groans with a horrible screeching sound, causing me to jump. Attempting to turn it over again seems like the stupidest idea ever, but I do it anyway. It sputters and screeches its protests at me again.

Well, shit.

My gaze takes a quick sweep ahead and behind me, searching for any cars or help nearby, but there is none. I'm practically stuck in the middle of nowhere, nothing but bushes and trees surrounding me, the curve in the road keeping me fairly well hidden.

Oh well. This is what daddies are for.

Turning half-way around in my seat, I dig in my backpack pocket for my cell phone. Except, it's empty.

My hands move faster, a slight sense of panic overtaking me as I basically crawl into the backseat searching for my cell. Ducking my head under the seats, I run my hands over the floorboards, between the seats, and anywhere else it could have gone to. I dump my bag upside down, scattering the contents into the leather bucket seat. Nothing. It's not here!

Shit! What do I do now?

What did people do before cell phones? Righting myself behind the steering wheel, my eyes dart back and forth over the expanse of the road. How safe would it be to flag someone down driving by? Leaning down, I pop the hood of my car. Maybe if I prop it up like they do in the movies, it'll signal to a driver-by that I need help. All I need is to borrow someone's cell phone long enough to call Charlie.

Getting out of the car, I walk towards the front and open the hood. The heat blasts onto my face, and the smell of the engine overtakes me. Accidentally, I drop the hood, latching it back closed. So much for that idea.

The sound of an engine purring around the bend in the road catches my attention. I don't know whether I should run into the middle of the street and start waving my arms wildly or if I should just stand here and hope whoever it is stops to help. As the sound gets closer, I move to the driver side of my car, deciding to go with an in between method of waving but staying on the shoulder of the road.

As the car approaches, the engine roars loader - wait, I know that sound. _No! _

How does he do that? Seriously? Does he have a tracking device on me?

Spinning around, I grasp at the door handle. It pulls, but the door stays tightly shut.

Oh. My. God. I locked my keys in the car?

Cupping my hands around my eyes, I peer into the tinted glass windows. My keys are hanging securely in the ignition. I could die. I could seriously die, right here, right now from embarrassment.

Pathetic little whimpers come out of me as I slide my head onto my forearm, hiding my face against the roof of the Mustang. The roar of Jacob's motorcycle engine cuts off behind me. I want to slide down to the ground, crumple up and hope the earth swallows me whole, but somehow, I find what little dignity I have left and turn to face my 'rescuer.'

"Car trouble?" He's wearing a crooked, arrogant smile, black jeans and a dark grey, muscle tee shirt. I hate how gorgeous he is. I suddenly feel inferior with my messy hair, tee shirt and shorts.

"Obviously, but don't worry about it. I already called someone. They should be here any minute." I'm lying, and I suck at lying. Jacob gives me a skeptical look as he walks around to the front of my car. I follow him hesitantly.

"Six, right?" Jacob looks down, taking his cell phone from his pocket and checking the clock. "Looks like I'm right on time."

"What? On time for what?" I question, having no idea what he's talking about.

"I forgave you the first time you forgot. Let's not make it a habit, Princess. I don't like to be stood up."

"I imagine few people do," I retort. Placing both hands on the hood of my car, he leans forward. I have no idea what he's thinking, but he's making me nervous.

"That's what I like about you, Princess; you're quick. Now pop the hood; we'll take a look."

Biting my lip, I look away from him. "I can't," I mumble.

"Listen, I don't have all night. It's a small lever under the dashboard; it even has a picture on it, so girls like you know what it's for. Go pull it."

Giving him a dirty look, I snap back, "I can't. I locked the keys in the car." My words are sharp and meant to make him sound stupid, but ironically, they make me sound like an idiot instead. My cheeks flush hot.

Booming laughter emits from Jacob. I jump, slightly startled by the sound. I've never heard him laugh so openly before.

Aren't I embarrassed enough as it is? Can't he just leave me alone and let me be rescued by the next person? Yet, with my luck, the next person would be a serial killer. At this point, I think I'd rather take my chances on the serial killer.

"Yeah, well, you can go if you want. I'm sure…" I hesitate. "…Edward will be here soon to get me. I called him a few minutes ago." I'm hoping the mention of Edward will make Jacob want to leave, though I don't know why. He's never seemed to give a damn about Edward before.

"You called him?" Jacob asks, disbelieving.

"Yep. So I'm fine here, really. You can go. I'm sure you have places to be, girls to see." My last three words taper off as my stomach clenches.

"You called him before or after you locked your keys in your car?"

What's with the fifty questions? Jeez.

"Before," I answer.

"Isn't Doucheward busy until nine?"

"How do you know that?" I flinch at giving myself away. It probably isn't hard to find out how long football practice runs.

"I read your text messages." A devilish smile crosses his lips as he waves the cell phone he was holding a minute ago. The one I had mistaken as his is actually _mine_.

"You stole my cell phone?" Lunging forward, I try to snatch it out of his grasp as he swings his arm up higher, out of my reach.

"I didn't steal it. You dropped it."

I don't believe him for one second.

"Now, since we both know you didn't call Doucheward, I'll offer one last time. Are you going to accept my help, Princess?"

"Are you going to give me back my cell?" As soon as I had my phone back, I had every intention of calling Charlie.

"You're hurting my feelings. I promised to pick you up at six, and here you're not even ready." The note from homeroom flashes through my mind. It said he'd pick me up at six, though I ignored it and assumed my non answer was enough of a no.

Is it coincidence that he happens to be picking me up at six on the side of the road? Has he done this somehow?

No. He couldn't have.

Could he? No. I dismiss the thought.

Opening my cell, he dials someone. Before I have a chance to dispute, he starts talking.

"Hey, Quil, I need you to bring the tow truck out here to Calawah Way about a quarter of a mile west of Elk Creek. It's a little sky blue Mustang." He pauses, giving me a sideways glance as he adds, "With a 'thanks dad' license plate." He laughs lightly. "And bring the slim jim; she locked her keys inside."

He hangs up, tucking my phone safely into his front pocket. My initial response is to go in after it, but I quickly shake the thought.

Jacob walks by me, brushing his arm against mine, which sends a tingle down my spine. Turning around, I watch as he straddles his bike, his hands grasping at the handle bars, his broad chest leaning forward and the muscles in his arms flexing. It's a sight to see. Automatically, my body reacts, rushing with heat from the top of my head to the tips of my toes.

"Get on. We'll meet him back at the shop."

Seeing as how I don't have much of a choice, I regretfully follow, taking the black helmet from Jacob's extended hand and putting it on.

The helmet feels heavy, weighing down on top of my head as it blocks part of my hearing, making the sounds of the outside world a little fuzzy. I try not to stare blankly at the bike, but in all honesty, I'm terrified to get on it. I realize my butt's supposed to go on the tiny pad behind Jacob, but there's little to no room on it. I'll practically be straddling his backside. He lets out an impatient sigh, so I move behind him, throwing one leg over the seat.

"Careful not to touch the exhaust pipe. I'd hate to have a burn scar marking up those gorgeous legs." Okay, does he just say these things to scare me? Or is he serious?

My front half is pressing against his back as I place my hands lightly on his sides, barely griping at the hard muscles under his shirt. Jacob gives me a wolfish grin over his shoulder, grabbing my hands and wrapping them tighter around his waist as he takes off in one swift movement. If he hadn't moved my hands, I'm sure I would have fallen right off the back of the motorcycle. Instinctively, I grip tighter around his waist and bury my face into his back, trying to ignore his woodsy and pine scent. God, he smells so good.

No, Bella. Don't think like that.

~~-BoM-~~

The auto shop looks the same as it had on Monday night. The two garage doors are wide open while several motorcycles sit out front. Jacob parks his bike near the entrance and kills the engine. Immediately, I hear cat calls and whistles directed at us from inside the shop. My face burns redder as Jacob steps off the bike. I hate to say that I'm nervous and scared, but the truth is, I am.

With a gentle smile, Jacob unclasps the helmet, removes it from my head and hangs it from the handle bar of the bike. The gesture completely floors me. I'm too stunned by his sweet actions to do anything other than stare. Gripping my hand in his, he helps me off of the bike and leads me into the garage.

The smell of oil, grease and sweat overtake the large room. There are three boys roughly the same size and shape as Jacob standing around two separate cars and wearing grease-covered, blue shirts. There's a fourth body half hidden underneath one vehicle with only his legs hanging out.

Feeling completely intimidated, I realize that I've huddled in closer to Jacob's arm with my wide eyes scanning over the scene before me. Two of the four men come walking up to meet us; one smiles while the other scowls.

"Where'd you pick up this one, Jake? She looks a little… fresh." The smiling boy slaps Jacob on the back as he winks at me.

Unconsciously, I squeeze Jacob's hand. He squeezes back and smiles down at me. I'm not sure if that smile is supposed to be reassuring or offering a false sense of calm before throwing me to the wolves.

"South of the highway actually," Jacob responds, his eyes boring into mine.

"You look too sweet to be hanging out with my little brother," the man with a scowl says.

Brother? This is Jacob's brother? He does look a few years older, and there are a lot of similarities between them. Though, I could probably say the same about the rest of the boys here too.

"Come on, Paul, you know I like my girls sweet."

I'm not sure whether to be offended or flattered.

"I know you like girls. Period," his brother says sardonically. I'm beginning to feel like he's angry with Jacob for some reason. Maybe because he brought me here?

The smiling boy laughs, "What happened to the little tiger you had in here a few days ago? That, my friend, was a girl who knew what she was getting herself into."

A head pops out from under a car hood and shouts over at us, "You only liked her cause her ass was hanging out of her skirt, Embry!"

"Like you weren't checking it out, Jared!" Embry's smile lights up his face again as he gazes down at me. "All I'm saying is that this little sweetheart here is too good for Jake, and you all know it."

"And I suppose you're perfect for her?" Jared shouts again, though this time his head stays tucked inside the motor.

"I could be," Embry laughs.

I swear to God, I hear a rumbling growl emit from Jacob's chest.

"Get your own girl, Embry, and stop trying to steal away mine." Jacob's fist connects to Embry's shoulder, knocking him back a step. The movement is both forceful and quick. I don't know if it's playful or a warning, and from the look of it, Embry doesn't either. His eyes shift from Jake to me and back again. Even his brother switches his scowl to surprise. In my own curiosity, I take a peek at Jacob and see the look of warning in his eyes.

I'm momentarily flabbergasted by Jacob's actions. It's almost as if he's being protective of me. Then the realization hits me like a ton of bricks. No, he's protecting his bike. He has to win me to keep his bike. I feel as if one of those bricks made a home in my stomach, as it's heavy with… what? Disappointment?

"Jake, can I talk to you a minute?" Paul asks. His eyebrows furrow as he inclines his head for Jake to follow. When he's furrowing his eyes like that, I can see the family resemblance.

At the loss of Jacob, I feel isolated. Even as Embry sidles up beside me, I feel scared and alone. I don't take my eyes off Jacob as he walks, stopping a few feet away. I strain my ears to hear what they're saying.

"Where's Claire at tonight?" Paul asks strictly.

"She's with Leah; they're going to see a movie tonight. No worries," Jake responds. My chest tightens. Who's Claire? Who's Leah?

"Jake's pretty serious over you, huh?" Embry laughs. It sounds forced and a little nervous.

"No," I reply distractedly, "he doesn't really like me." I look up at Embry, and he gives me a disbelieving look. Actually, it's more of an "are you crazy?" look. But he doesn't know about the bet between us. So he doesn't know that Jake's only pretending to like me in order to seduce me.

Switching my gaze back to Paul and Jacob, my eyes catch on Paul's movements as he slips something into Jacob's hand. I can't tell what it is, but Jacob's eyes narrow down at it.

"Where'd you all get this?" he whispers harshly.

"Don't worry about it; I told you I'd take care of us," Paul answers.

"So what's you're name anyway? Or should I just call you Sweetheart?" Embry interrupts my eavesdropping once more. My eyes snap back to Jacob, watching as he tucks a wad of cash into his back pocket with a look of disapproval.

"Bella; Bella Swan," I answer.

"Swan? Hey, you're not related to Chief Swan, are you?" Immediately, the room goes quiet. Every pair of eyes land on me with the exception of the guy under the car.

"Uh, yeah, he's my father." I know I look confused because I am. You'd think I'd just announced that I was the daughter of Hitler.

"Are you fucking kidding me, Jake? You're fucking Swan's daughter?" Paul practically explodes. As much as I want to tell everyone in the room that we are most definitely _not_ sleeping together, I'm too scared to utter a word.

"I'm not fucking her, Paul, Jesus." Jacob takes his brother's anger in stride, though I'm trembling and backing up a step or two.

"You mean you're not fucking her _yet_! Are you crazy?" Paul yells again.

"He's genius. That's badass, man," Jared mutters in appreciation.

Paul's gaze snaps to Jared then back to Jake. "Is that what this is about? You think-"

"Paul!" The man under the car rolls out quickly and sits up. He looks a few years older than everyone else and exudes an air of power. I'm guessing this is Uley, the owner. He tosses some kind of tool down to the ground, the metal piece echoing through the garage as it bounces. "Shut the fuck up unless you know what you're yelling about!" He snaps, "Jake brought the girl in because her car broke down. She's business. I sent Quil out to pick up her car twenty minutes ago." The man stares Paul down until the redness in his face lessens. "Get back to work. You too, Embry." Without another word, he lies down and rolls back under the car.

"Sure thing, Sam," Embry says in a mocking manner. With a piercing glance at me, Paul stomps over to a car and picks up a wrench.

Now I know where Jacob gets his glare from.

Embry's warm hand clasps onto my shoulder. "Talk to you later, Bella. Oh, and when Jake breaks your heart, you know where to find me." He winks, clicks his tongue and shoots me an imaginary gun with his thumb and forefinger. In spite of it all, I smile.

Roughly shoving Embry backwards, Jacob snakes his arm around my waist and pulls me into his hard chest.

"What'd I tell you about scamming on my chicks?" All right, I'm definitely not okay with Jacob calling me one of his chicks. I try to tug out of his embrace, but he squeezes me tighter.

"Wait 'til you're done?" Embry laughs, clearly intending his remark to be a joke, but Jacob doesn't laugh. Making a hard fist, he takes a step toward Embry, who holds up his hands in surrender. "Just kidding, man; calm down. Watch out for this one, Sweetheart." He backs away, shaking his head slightly at Jake.

"Come on, let's go for a walk," Jacob whispers huskily, rubbing his nose into my hair. His warm breath brushes against my ear, causing me to shudder.

"What about my car?" It's natural to be worried about it, right? I mean, I left it on the side of the road, trusting Jacob (of all people) with it.

"Sam'll take care of it. Besides, you don't want to stand around in here while they work on it, do you?" He doesn't wait on me to answer as he takes my hand again and leads me out the back door of the garage.

Minutes later, Jacob's dragging me along the coast of Second Beach. Tugging on my hand, he pulls me down into the sand next to him, leaning back against a large piece of driftwood. He doesn't speak; he just stares out into the ocean, and I can't help but wonder what it is he's thinking about.

"Can I ask you something?" I venture, reprimanding myself for asking to ask a question.

"Sure, Princess, you can kiss me." He gives me a sideways glance and a smirk.

Damn him, now I'm picturing it. I do want to kiss him. Maybe it's due to all the times I thought it was going to happen and it didn't. Maybe I'm just a glutton for punishment, or maybe I just want to know what it would feel like.

"You know that's not what I was going to ask you," I reproach.

"Oh, then you want to know if you can blow me? Sure, I'll give it a whirl." He moves his hand down to the button of his pants as I give him an appalled look.

"Why are you so crude?" I nearly shout.

He shifts his upper body toward me, resting one elbow on his bent knee. "Why? Are you turned on by it?"

"No, turned _off_ by it is more like it." With a huff, I cross my arms and look the other way.

"Fine, ask your question. Then we can cut all the bullshit and get naked."

"Can you ever have a normal conversation? I mean, are you capable of that?" What I want to say is 'Can you ever talk about something other than sex?' but that would make me turn three shades of red.

With a deep sigh and a roll of his eyes, he says, "All right. What, _Princess_," he taunts, "do you want to know?"

Ignoring his attitude, I wonder: Where do I start? There are so many things I want to know, and the fact that he's allowing me - albeit grudgingly - to ask makes me feel a surge of power.

"Why are you taking junior courses when you're a senior?" I don't realize how rude that sounds until it's already out. I want to know, of course, and for a split second, I thought it was the simplest of questions. I planned to start simple and move up to the more complex questions, like why Paul was so angry about my dad and who Claire is, but now I'm worried he won't answer me at all.

His jaw tightens as his eyes harden. I'm about to apologize when he answers, "I dropped out last year in March. I'm making up for the classes I missed this semester. Then next semester, I'll catch up with my senior courses and still be able to graduate on time."

"That's good," I reply, nodding dumbly and biting the inside of my cheek.

"No, I didn't want to drop out," he answers my unasked question. "I had no choice."

I know better than to push my luck, but I want to know more. Just as I'm about to ask, I surprise myself, the words tumbling out faster than I can stop them. "I heard you slept with Lauren."

"Where'd you hear that?" he asks with a hint of alarm. What? Did he think I wouldn't find out?

"Lauren told everybody at school." Okay, that wasn't completely true. She told our table of friends, but she could have told the whole school. It's possible.

"Did she? And what else did Lauren say?" His eyes narrow as he cocks his head slightly.

I blush crimson; the other things she said I don't want to repeat.

"What else did she say?" Jacob prods.

"Just that you, uh, knew what you were doing." I swallow noisily; Jacob's mouth tilts up into a crooked grin.

"Are you jealous, Princess?" He takes my hand in his and places it on his knee, widening his grin into a wolfish smile. "Do you wanna know what you missed out on?"

Sliding my hand onto his thigh, he lets go, leaving it to rest there a moment. I can feel the heat of his leg through his jeans, and my face is burning. I'm not sure what he wants me to do. Slide my hand up and down his leg? Keep it there?

The idea of my hand traveling north causes my heart to pump faster with a nervous energy. He gives me a smile that resembles the big bad wolf as he places his hand on top of mine again, moving it up, letting his intentions be known. My breathing shallows as my hand rides up his leg, slowly getting closer and closer to the crotch of his jeans. With a scream from my subconscious, I rip my hand away before it makes contact.

My breath is coming out in small pants, I know I'm beet red, and Jacob has the audacity to chuckle at me. I'm so stupid and embarrassed, and his laughing at me hurts my feelings. The corners of my lips twitch downward as I try to fight the tears that are welling up in my eyes and the lump forming in my throat. Bringing my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around my legs and look the other way, trying to hide my hurt expression.

"Princess? Are you… are you crying?" he asks, astonished.

I shake my head vehemently, refusing to let him see me like this. _God, I'm such a mess!_

"You _are_ crying. Come here." He places his palm on my lower back and his other hand on my arms, attempting to tug them free of their hold on my legs. Sniffling, I shake my head again, trying to regain my composure.

Jacob gives up trying to coax me over to him and wraps his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. Gripping my chin in his oversized hand, he forces me to face him. My eyes are downcast as I bite my lip.

"Princess, look at me."

My gaze shifts from the sand to the ocean to his face and finally settles on his eyes. His usual cocky demeanor softens to one of remorse.

"I'm sorry." His tone rings with sincerity. "I shouldn't have done that."

His hand on my back moves up, brushing a few wayward hairs off of my face and tucking them behind my ear. Slowly and deliberately, he leans forward, pressing his lips to my forehead in a soothing kiss. He pulls back, barely a few inches away from me as he searches my eyes.

Fingers still curled beneath my chin, he smoothly runs his thumb across my lower lip as his other hand slides to the nape of my neck. It's as if I can physically see the walls he has built up around him crumbling down. His expression is open, earnest and endearing. His gaze flickers from my eyes to my lips as he begins to close the distance between us.

Closing my eyes, I revel in the feeling of his lips, soft and warm as they form against mine. It's sweet, passionate and romantic. The sound of the waves crashing along the shore adds to the perfection of the kiss.

With an unspoken unity, Jacob parts his lips at the same moment that I part mine. His tongue sweeps across my own with a flowing movement. My grip tightens on his shoulders, zealously returning his kiss.

A ringing sounds from within his pocket, pulling us apart.

Jacob flashes a look of frustration and apology at me as he pulls out his cell phone. _Claire_ lights up the screen.

A stab of anger and hurt shoots through my heart as Jacob quickly opens the phone to answer.

"Hey, Bear," Jacob answers sweetly as he hurriedly stands and walks a few feet away from me. "I thought you were having a girls' night… What's wrong?" He glances over his shoulder at me then turns his back to me once more. "No, I'm at the shop," he lies, and I can't stop the scoff that comes out of my mouth. "I'll be there in twenty minutes… Love you, too." _What did he just say?_ He snaps the phone shut and rubs at his eyes, gradually turning back to face me.

"Your car should be ready now. I'll walk you back." So that's it? No explanations; no apologies?

I'm seething. With rage or with disbelief or some other emotion that I can't even begin to pinpoint right now.

Some rational part of my brain is telling me to calm down; it's telling me I have no right to get upset. I have no claim on Jacob. He's not my boyfriend. He's free to see whoever he wants, free to _do_ whoever he wants. And I have to remember: I'm just a bet.

I stand up without saying a word, brushing the sand and rocks free from my shorts, and stride pass him. I realize I'm coming off a little haughty, but I don't care.

"Now you're mad?" He rushes forward to catch up with me. "You know, your mood swings are a little hard to keep up with," he spits.

"Me? What about you? At least my reactions are normal. You're hot one minute and then cold the next!"

"You think I'm hot, Princess?" He's facing me and walking backwards, smiling like he won the lottery.

"I think you're infuriating! And cocky! And arrogant! And- and-"

"And what, Princess?"

And I think I have some seriously disturbing feelings for you that I can't even begin to comprehend right now. I don't answer as we walk side by side to the back door of the garage. The same boys are running around through the shop with the addition of one more, hovering by my car. Quil, I suspect.

Jacob walks right up to him. "So? Get her running?"

Quil tosses my keys to Jacob who catches them easily.

"Yep, good as new. This baby can really fly." Patting the hood of the car, he looks at me. "Hope you don't mind I took her for a test drive."

Several boys snicker as I wonder if he's kidding.

Sam walks around my car, wiping his hands on a grease-stained rag. The rag's already so filthy it couldn't possibly be helping.

"She is a beauty," Sam says, appraising my car. Jacob lets out a small cough that sounds a little like a warning. Sam rolls his eyes in response.

"How much do I owe you?" I ask Sam, having no idea what their little exchange is about.

"Don't worry about it," he answers. "It was a simple fix."

"Just some crossed wires; don't know how they got that way," Quil adds as the room erupts with laughter. I get the feeling that I'm missing something.

Jacob opens my car door and gestures me inside. I'm still fuming and refuse to look at him as I get in. Digging in his pocket, he pulls out my cell phone. I can't believe that I'd forgotten he had it.

Instead of handing it over, he makes a call, and his pocket starts ringing.

"There. Now I have your number." He tosses my phone into my lap. "I'll call you later."

I open my mouth to argue, but he shuts the door on my dispute.

As I'm pulling out of the garage, I watch Jacob straddle his bike and take off down the road. I hesitate a moment but follow in the same direction. Watching his headlamp turn a block ahead of me, I shut off my headlights and trail him.

Don't ask me why. I honestly couldn't tell you.

The last time I spied on him flashes through my brain, but I'm confident that this time I can be more careful. This time, I won't get caught. I keep at least a block's length away while driving and park in the shadows, watching as he pulls his bike into the driveway of a two story home. The front door swings open, the light inside the house illuminating a girl in the door way. She's wearing a yellow sundress that contrasts beautifully with her russet skin tone and edgy, short-cut hair. I immediately feel inferior, which I hate, because she looks like a Sports Illustrated model.

They talk briefly on the porch steps; Jacob nods, places his hand on her lower back and leads her inside, closing the door and shutting me out behind them.

_So this is Claire? His girlfriend?_

I thought he was the type to love 'em and leave 'em. The type that never settles down, but he's not. He's worse. He's the cheating type.

I can't believe he has a girlfriend! Isn't this something that he might have wanted to share at some point? I mean, he knew this whole time that I had a boyfriend-

Oh, my God! Edward!

What have I done? I kissed Jacob! I cheated on Edward!

Flipping my car around, I drive like a bat out of hell. It's a quarter 'til nine; if I hurry, I might make it home before he gets there.

A small slip of paper catches in my peripheral vision. Picking it up, I take a closer look. It's the note Edward left on my windshield. _Don't forget, I'll see you tonight._ Its words seem ironic now. I did forget.

Though, something about the note doesn't seem right. It doesn't even look like Edward's handwriting- With a gasp, I put two and two together.

The note is from Jacob.

The realization comes crashing down on me. All the signs were there.

Jacob planned this whole evening!

I brushed the idea off when it came earlier because I didn't think he would actually do such a thing. But all the points add up. Jacob is a mechanic, he left the note on my windshield, and he stole my cell phone. He fixed my car so it would break down. He stole my phone, so I couldn't call for help and he could 'find' me on the side of the road. That's why his friends were laughing and didn't charge me. They knew he tricked me.

I'm such an idiot.

* * *

**A/N:** Ok y'all, posting this went against my better judgment, but I promised you all a week so I'm delivering. Hope you all love it as much as I do! Guess Jake wasn't lying when he said Bella couldn't avoid him forever!

By the way, I never knew how difficult it was to be in several character's heads at once. It can be quite challenging.

You're reviews are amazing and I'm feeling increasingly humbled with each one. I try to respond to them, but it's not always easy. Please forgive me if I missed you. *Hugs*


	5. Chapter 5

My stomach is churning, my palms are sweating, and my body literally feels weighed down by guilt. No matter how hard I try, I can't swallow down the lump in my throat, but I'm fighting tooth and nail to keep the tears from falling. And so far I'm winning, though, I don't know how.

My car is plowing down the highway at a speed that would be considered reckless endangerment as I'm racing the clock. I have to make it home before Edward. I'm still about ten minutes away and need to use this time to pull myself together before I see him.

I feel like a complete mess. My emotions are scattering from guilt to fear to hurt to anger to humiliation. I'm on this emotional roller coaster ride with no way to get off.

How could I forget about Edward? How did I get myself into this predicament? And why - dear God - _why_ did I kiss Jacob?

My mind is running like a projector screen of images, flipping from one slide to the next, my emotions switching and gnawing at me with each one. First, there's an image of my car in the garage with Jacob and his friends laughing while I stand there completely lost and confused. I feel like a fool for ever trusting Jacob enough to go with him and for not figuring out that he was the cause of the whole evening sooner. Had I put the pieces together while I was with him, I no doubt would've confronted him. Now I'll have to settle for an altercation at school, but honestly, I don't think I ever want to speak to him again after the way he played me.

This brings me to the image of Jacob and me kissing on the beach. I picture it as a third party observer, watching Jacob lean forward, pressing his lips to mine while I completely forget about Edward and kiss him back without the slightest hesitation.

Closing my eyes, I can still feel the ghost of that kiss on my lips, Jacob's heat against my body, and the sand beneath me. But no matter how amazing the kiss was at the time, I can't stop myself from feeling shameful and guilty about it now.

Then I see Jacob walking away from me, his phone pressed to his ear as the words _"Love you, too"_ reverberate through my mind. This is the hardest part of the night to sort through as my emotions skyrocket in several different directions.

I'm embarrassed at my actions, ashamed of myself for being so pathetic and weak that I couldn't stand my ground, that I kissed him. I'm hurt that he let a phone call interrupt our kiss at the same time that I'm angry. I'm angry at him for never telling me he has a girlfriend and leaving me to go see her. And I'm angry at myself for forgetting, even for a second, that I'm nothing more than a bet to him.

Had I let myself start to believe that I meant more to him? Had I really just imagined his walls coming down and letting me in? It seems that way now, but at the time…I could have sworn he was opening up to me. Even if it was just a little.

Then his girlfriend pops into my mind, and I can't help but have myriad changing emotions again. I feel inferior to her in every possible way. I don't even know her, but I imagine that she's the complete opposite of me. She's beautiful, edgy and experienced, where I'm average, meek and naïve. I feel a stab to my heart every time I think about him with her, but I don't want to admit that it could be accredited to jealousy.

Yet, her boyfriend is cheating on her. The one who says he loves her and lies about being out with other girls. That's when my guilt kicks in.

As angry as I am at him for never telling me about his girlfriend, I can't help but wonder: what does this say about me?

I didn't know that I was abetting a cheater. Does that make my infractions any better? I have to ask myself: If I had known Jacob had a girlfriend, would that have stopped me from kissing him? The real problem is, I don't know. At the time, I didn't even think about Edward, my boyfriend, so why would Jacob's girlfriend, (who I don't even know) come to my mind? Maybe she wouldn't. Maybe this whole time I'm blaming Jake and getting angry with him for being a cheater when really I'm not any better.

Then there's the final image; the one that I want to push out and ignore. The one that makes me feel the worst.

Edward.

First, I see Edward's beautiful face with his sweet, crooked smile and words of love and devotion. But it quickly shifts to a shattered, heartbroken expression as he finds out what I've done; then it shifts to anger, and finally, disgust. The bile churns in my stomach as I try to resist the urge to pull over and throw up.

What do I do about Edward? Do I tell him that I kissed Jacob? I want to at the same time that I don't. On one hand, he has the right to know what I did and that I never plan on doing it again. He should know that I don't want to break up, that I don't want to lose him. But on the other hand, I see how selfish telling him would be. Telling him would ease my own conscience, but it would only hurt Edward and our relationship. And I don't want to hurt him.

But doesn't he deserve to know?

The way I see it, I have very few choices. I could tell him, let him break up with me and call me all the horrible names I deserve. Or, I could keep it a secret.

I know it's wrong. I know what I did was wrong, but if I vow that it will never happen again…could I keep this from Edward? I'd be continuing our relationship with this heavy lie hanging above my head…could I do that?

What if I was in Edward's position? What would I want? Would I want Edward to tell me he kissed another girl or keep it from me?

Raindrops begin falling periodically, sprinkling against my windows as I draw closer to home. I still haven't made a decision, and my time is beginning to run out. My heartbeats escalate as I turn down my block, my eyes scanning the darkness ahead of me for Edward's Volvo. The relief is minimal as the guilt consumes me whole. The rain is picking up, steadily falling in thick waves as I park my car and run inside the house, pausing only long enough to unlock the front door. Wiping off my wet arms and face, I run into the living room, flipping on a few lights and turning on the television to give the illusion that I've been home all evening. Just as I'm kicking off my muddied sneakers, a knock sounds at the door followed by the squeaking hinges as Edward slowly peeks inside.

"Bella?" he calls as I round the corner into the foyer. The moment I lay eyes on him, I want to burst into tears. His crooked smile grows, and his eyes light up as he sees me. Dropping an umbrella to the floor, Edward takes three long strides and wraps his arms around me, pulling me up and against him, my knees bending automatically. It's a moment when I should be laughing, smiling and kissing him, but I can't. Staring straight into my eyes, he begins lowering me, sliding my body against his until our gaze is level. He reaches to press his lips against mine as I turn my head, letting him kiss my cheek instead.

As he sets me down, I brace myself for his question. _He's going to ask me what's wrong, and I'll have no choice but to tell him. _

"Have you been out in the rain? Your hair's wet." Edward's hand brushes down the length of my hair while I stare at him, dumbfounded.

"Trash." The word slips out. I don't know why I said it; it's the first thing that came to my mind.

"What?" he chuckles, collecting my hair into a ponytail. He bends slowly, kissing my newly exposed neck.

Shaking myself mentally, I try to recover. "Took trash out."

Am I capable of complete sentences? Come on, Bella!

Edward smiles against my neck. "You knew I was coming over. Why didn't you wait for me? I would have taken it out for you."

My entire body stiffens as he kisses me, and I'm amazed that Edward hasn't noticed yet. While my heart is pumping at a mile a minute, I try to pull myself together. His hands start caressing my sides, letting his fingers slip under the hem of my shirt as he starts nibbling under my ear. And all I can think is _I kissed someone else_.

I need him to stop because it feels wrong letting him touch me like this, but at the same time, I want to pretend like everything's normal. I swear it's one of those moments they show on T.V., where you have the angel and the demon on your shoulders. The angel's telling me to back up and tell him everything while the demon's telling me to keep my mouth shut.

"Big deal. I mean, problem. I mean no problem. It's not a big deal," I ramble on.

"Am I that distracting?" Edward whispers, nipping at my ear lobe.

Yes. No. Kind of.

I can't think straight.

"Come on, let's move to the living room." Taking my hand in his, Edward begins leading me out of the foyer.

Okay, yeah, the living room. The living room's good.

Edward grips my hips as he sits on the couch, attempting to pull me down on his lap, but I shift slightly, landing awkwardly next to him. I know I look guilty or panicked, so I'm trying to find any excuse I can to keep from looking directly at him. Snatching up the remote control off of the coffee table, I hand it over to him, keeping my eyes locked on the television.

"Here, why don't you pick something for us to watch?" I try to smile, but I know it falters.

Edward wraps his arms around my middle, pulling me back against his chest as he starts flipping through the channels. My eyes are staring at the screen, but they're not focusing on it.

"Ah," he says, stopping his channel surfing, "_The Princess Bride_, one of your favorite movies."

_Princess_. I think my heart stops beating at the word. Is there a higher power conspiring against me? Mocking me with this movie? I'm about to have a full-blown panic attack. Jacob's voice resounds in my mind with every instance that he's ever called me Princess. The guilt wracks at me again.

Responding takes a lot of effort, but somehow, I ground out a simple, "Yeah."

Edward begins running his hand up and down my arm, softly stroking me. It's a loving gesture, one that I would normally enjoy, but tonight, I can't. He nuzzles his nose into my hair, shifting slightly so he can run his lips against my jaw and throat. I squeeze my eyes shut, willing myself to stay put and not pull away.

"I love this," he coos into my ear, "I love the way you feel against me, the way your body fits so perfectly with mine. I love touching you, feeling you, and kissing you."

His lips move along my neck as he twists our bodies around, lying me back on the couch beneath him. As he trails up my jaw, I start to panic. Jacob's kiss is still too fresh in my mind. I'm too guilt ridden; I can't do this. I can't let Edward kiss my lips right after Jacob.

It's so wrong. It's all so wrong!

Edwards lips are about to descend on mine.

"Brownies!" I screech.

"What?" Edward leans back as I start trying to clamber out from under him.

"Brownies! I could make us some brownies! Don't brownies sound so good right now? Here, you stay here and watch this. I'm going to go make us some brownies!" I'm completely freaking out and talking way too fast. It's a wonder my voice hasn't gone ten octaves higher to sound like Alvin from _Alvin and the Chipmunks_. "Don't move! I'll be right back!"

I couldn't have gotten out of there any faster. I'm practically running into the kitchen. My socks slide on the tile from my momentum as I try to stop, my knees smacking against the wooden cabinets. With a painful groan, I lay my head down on the cool granite counter top.

How do people do this everyday? How do people get away with cheating? I've been trying for less than twenty minutes, and I'm already a basket case.

How does Jacob do it? Here I am freaking out and acting like a complete spaz while Jacob is probably sleeping with his girlfriend this very minute!

_Ugh_, that is _not_ something I want to think about right now.

But now it's engrained into my head. I can't think about anything else.

I need to get my mind off of this; I need to do something. I pull my forehead off of the counter long enough to pull out a cook book. No way am I going to make a five-minute batch of brownies out of a box. I need more time than that. I'm making these babies from scratch.

Pulling out all the listed ingredients and measuring cups, I feel like I'm on autopilot. My body is running through the motions, but my head isn't with it. Jacob and his girlfriend are at the forefront of my thoughts.

What did they do after they walked inside? I couldn't kiss Edward after Jacob. Could he kiss her after me? Did he kiss her? As I reach for the sugar bowl, my defiant imagination runs away with itself.

_Jacob's hand is on her lower back, guiding her inside. After slamming the door shut behind him, he grips her by the shoulders, shoving her up against the wall as he attacks her mouth, her jaw, and her throat. His hands are roaming down her sides to the hem of her dress, hiking it up past her navel._

The anger and hurt of my own imaginings cause my cheeks to inflame and my hands to shake. I have to re-scoop the sugar three times before I get an accurate reading and toss it into the empty bowl. Only half makes it inside. I scoop a little more, estimating the spilled portion and add it to the mixture.

_Her hands frantically grasp at his shirt, desperately trying to tear it off of him as he pushes against her. Gripping onto her thigh, he hitches it around his waist as her head falls back, exposing her elongated neck. _

My inner voice screams at me to stop. Aggravated at myself and the direction of my thoughts, I slam my hands down onto the counter. Breathing deeply, I fight the angry tears from coming.

Picking up an egg, I attempt to crack it on the side of the bowl, but my spiked adrenaline and shaking hands make it a difficult task. Forcing my concentration, the egg cracks and opens between my fingers, but not cleanly, as the yolk falls into the bowl. I spend the next few minutes picking out pieces of the shell and flicking them onto the counter.

_In one smooth motion, Jacob removes his shirt. Her hands move to his jeans, tugging at the button. Sliding his fingers under her dress, he grips her hips, guiding her movements to match his, while grinding against her._

I want to scream, to cry, to- to do _something_! Anything to stop the reel of pornographic images from coming to my mind! Grabbing the second egg, I toss it across the room, watching it explode on the wall, the shattered shell and yolk dripping to the floor.

_ His lips fall to her chest, his hands tugging down the straps of her dress as she wraps her legs around his waist. Lifting his head, he places his forehead against hers. "I love you," he pants before attacking her mouth once more._

My heart clenches in my chest. Does he really love her? Didn't he tell me in the student lounge that first day that it wasn't a big deal to say I love you? Maybe he's just saying it; maybe he doesn't really mean it.

_Why do you care_? my inner voice asks.

I shouldn't care. I _know_ I shouldn't care. I should hate him. Hate him for everything he's done to me over the past week. He's tricked me, humiliated me, manipulated me, stolen from me, and yet, I don't hate him. I can't stop obsessing about him.

There is just something about him. He isn't _always_ cocky and sure; sometimes he acts vulnerable and sweet. But that's just it, isn't it? He's _acting_.

I admit that I'm starting to like that side of him. That's the side of him I'm starting to fall for.

_Oh, no_.

_No, no, no, no, no!_ What's wrong with me? I can't fall in love with him! Don't I know better by now? He was only acting sweet so I'd kiss him. Which I did. Because I'm an idiot, and I keep falling for his tricks! First with the sabotaging of my car, and now this sweet act.

Reaching for the bag of flour, I measure out one and a half cups, shakily.

"Bella?"

I nearly jump out of my skin at Edward's voice behind me. The cup of flour flies out of my hand and lands, clattering noisily, on the ground. A heavy cloud of flour fills the air around me, causing me to cough; my front half is splattered in white.

"Edward," I cough, "you scared me."

"I can tell. Are you all right?"

"Yeah," I mutter, still coughing a little and brushing off my shirt.

His eyes rake over the floor, the cupboards and the counter top. "What have you been doing in here? This place looks like a war zone."

Turning around, I examine my own mess. He's right. Most of the cupboards and drawers have been left wide open while my ingredients are scattered over the counter: flour, sugar, egg shells, yolk, and more. It's amazing that any of it actually made it into the mixing bowl. Not to mention the splattered egg on the wall.

"Um, I was making brownies," I innocently reply, sounding like a toddler who knows they're in trouble. I mentally chastise myself. I came in here to get my head straight, and all I managed to do was confuse myself further and make a mess.

"Yeah, I know. You've been in here a long time. I was starting to get lonely in there." He smiles as he starts walking toward me. "Why don't we forego the brownie idea and head back to the couch?"

I know what he's implying; he wants to go back to the couch and finish what he started earlier. But I can't. I can't do it.

I internally freak out instead.

Before Edward can cross the room and reach me, I swiftly turn and dart for a dish rag by the sink. My socks are no match for the slick tile floor covered in flour, and my feet fly out from under me. For a split second, I'm airborne; then my butt lands, followed by my elbows, smacking hard against the cold tile.

_Ow_!

The pain emanates from my elbows, shooting sharp tingles up and down my arms, and my tail bone feels like it's on fire.

"Sweetheart, are you all right?" Edward rushes to my side, carefully helping me into a sitting position as my hands automatically clasp onto my sore elbows, my rear screaming in protest at the movement.

Nodding, I stand, not trusting myself to speak as I feel the prick of tears sting at my eyes. But I'm not all right.

I _hurt_. Physically and emotionally.

Edward gently cups my bicep and forearm, guiding it so he can have a better look at my sore elbow. He tsks with his eyebrows knitted together in a form of empathy while his tenderness eats away at me. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve him.

"Oh, Bella, it's already starting to bruise." Slowly, he descends his lips to the reddened area, kissing my elbow in the gentlest way. "I'll get you some ice."

"No, I'll be fine," I mumble and sniff.

"Come here." Wrapping his arms around my waist, Edward tucks me into his chest, chuckling half heartedly. "Don't cry, love. I'm sorry you're hurting."

_Oh, Edward if you only knew._

I'm unable to hold back the tears any longer and let them escape, dripping onto his shirt. For the second time this evening, I'm crying, reminding me of the first time. It began with Jacob comforting and ended with him kissing me. Guilt rears its ugly head again.

Stepping out of Edward's embrace, I wipe my eyes hastily. I can't allow the same actions to occur twice in one night with two different men. I can't keep feeling this way. Every sweet gesture he makes cuts another sliver into my heart. He's happy with me. He loves me.

How could I do this to him? How could I cheat on this sweet, caring, and selfless boy? I need to tell him the truth. I need to tell him about the kiss. My mouth opens, but I can't seem to form the words. My voice hasn't quite caught up with my decision yet as it falters.

"That was a nasty fall. You're sure you're all right?" Edward's large hands cup my face, his thumbs brushing over my damp cheekbones.

My eyes wander from his gorgeous green pools to his chest. I can't seem to concentrate on what he's asking me as my mind keeps contemplating what to say. How do I tell him I kissed Jacob? Do I come right out and say it? _Edward, I kissed someone else, but I swear it's never going to happen again._ No, I can't do it like that. Though I know, no matter how I say it, it will hurt him.

"Bella?" he questions again, searching my face.

I shake my head. No, I'm not all right, and he wouldn't be either in a moment.

Edward mistakes my answer, believing that I'm telling him I'm still in pain from my fall. With a small shake of his head, he leans forward, attempting to capture my lips in his. I know he's trying to comfort me with a kiss, but I can't allow it. _Not again_.

I pull back slightly, tilting my chin downward in a nonverbal cue.

"Bella, what's wrong? You've been acting kind of distant all evening." The panic is evident in his velvety voice.

Cupping my hands over his, I slide them off of my cheeks and fold them, clasping my hands around them.

Biting my cheek, I try to form the right words again. I'm absolutely terrified inside, knowing that I'm about to break Edward's heart. But my hope, my only hope, is that he'll forgive me. I really don't want to lose him. It's in this same moment that I realize how much I care for him. Maybe even love him. More than I'd thought.

This realization only makes what I'm about to do harder.

"My car broke down after school today," I start, quietly uttering the words. My hands are shaking as my heart beats pick up, the throbbing continuing in my elbows with each rapid beat.

Edward's brows pull together in confusion. "Okay. Are you saying you need me to look at it?"

"No, no, I already got it fixed." I bite my lip, waiting for Edward to make the connection between my car breaking down and where I would've gotten it fixed. But he doesn't.

"All right, that's good," he sighs. "Bella, I don't see how this has anything to do with us or why you're acting so…funny." His eyes squint as he says "funny," like it's not the right word to describe how I've been acting. Which it's not. The right word would be neurotic.

"Well, see." I swallow noisily; this is the beginning of a very hard conversation. "I, uh, kind of got it fixed at Uley's garage."

"Why would you take it all the way to La Push? To Uley's garage?" Comprehension suddenly lights up in Edward's eyes as he connects the final piece of the puzzle. "Wait, Uley's? You mean where that- that asshole works?" His frenzied voice reverberates off of the walls, causing me to flinch. He notices my reaction, his features relaxing into grief as he realizes he was practically yelling at me. Taking a forcibly deep breath, Edward moves closer to me. Bringing his hand up, he fiddles with a strand of my hair, flipping the end between his fingers.

"He was there, wasn't he? That's the reason you've been acting so strangely tonight. Because you saw him at the garage, and you feel guilty about breaking your promise to stay away."

I don't know how to respond. He seems so sure of his conclusion that I almost want to agree with him. But the funny part is I've never felt guilty about being around Jacob. Even though I promised to avoid him and didn't. It wasn't like I was lying. I _did_ try to stay away from him. My attempts just always seemed to be thwarted. However, even when I did see him or talk to him, I never felt guilty. Maybe because it was such a stupid thing to promise. Lauren is all over Edward most days; she isn't exactly subtle in her effort to steal him away from me. And yet, I'd never asked Edward to try to stay away from her. _Huh_.

"Did you talk to him?"

After my small epiphany, I no longer appreciate the promise that I had made to Edward. In fact, for a split second, I'm mad. I trust Edward. I trust him around other girls and Lauren, trusting that he won't give in to their advances. I trust that he would never cheat on me.

A lead weight drops in my stomach. As quickly as the anger came, it fades back to guilt. Edward had me promise because he knew Jacob couldn't be trusted. He would try to get somewhere with me.

And trying he is.

And succeeding.

"Bella, sweetheart, I'm not angry. I understand that you're going to run into him from time to time. That's unavoidable. But _please,_" Edward grasps my shaking hands in his, squeezing tightly, his gaze boring into mine, "tell me if he tries anything with you."

This is it. This is my opening. With a heavy sigh and a sinking heart, I open my mouth, the words dancing on the tip of my tongue. My subconscious voice urges me on, _tell him. Tell him. Tell him. _

"Jaco-"

"Bella! What the devil happened in here?" The kitchen door swings shut, slamming loudly behind my dripping wet father. Lightening crackles in the sky behind him. His eyes rake over the scene before him, carefully inspecting the disastrous kitchen until his sharp eyes lock with mine. I cringe.

"I was making brownies." I offer a small smile, but it's not reciprocated. Charlie shrugs off his jacket, turning to hang it on a rod next to the door. I squeeze my eyes shut, knowing what he'll see next.

"What the hell is this? Why is there an egg splattered on my wall?" Of course I can't help but jump as he yells, and I recoil slightly. Edward's warm hand presses firmly against my lower back as he steps closer to me, almost in a protective manner. Instinctively, I lean into his side, taking comfort in his body heat.

"I'm sorry, Charlie, this is my fault. I coerced Bella into a bit of a food fight," he chuckles. "As you can tell, things got a little out of hand." He gestures toward my flour spotted shirt. My dad appraises me and lets out a small huff, obviously accepting Edward's quick-witted lie. Not surprisingly either. Charlie likes Edward, though I mostly think it's because of his father, Dr. Cullen. For 'appearances' sake, Edward makes the perfect boyfriend.

"Bella, clean this mess up. Edward," Charlie deliberately glances down at his watch and back up again, "it's getting kind of late, isn't it?"

"Yes, sir, it is. I should be getting home." Edward looks down at me, sharing a quick wink and toss of his head, beckoning me to follow him.

Leaving Charlie in the kitchen, we walk languidly to the front door. Edward takes my hands in his, gently caressing his thumbs over my knuckles. Gnawing on my lip, I pull my eyebrows together; my insides twist and churn with nerves. I was so close to telling him. I almost said it, but my dad interrupted. Should I take that as some sort of a sign?

"Oh, Bella." Edward softly brushes his fingers across my forehead, smoothing out my worried wrinkles. "I'm sorry."

My eyes widen marginally as my mouth falls open. _He's sorry? What on Earth could he be sorry for? If anyone should be apologizing, it's me!_

"Wha-what do you have to be sorry for?"

He shakes his head slightly as he answers, "I'm sorry for the way I behaved before. I don't mean to sound like such a controlling boyfriend. I shouldn't try to tell you to stay away from someone. It's just not feasible." He smiles a little, trailing one hand softly across my cheek. "I just love you so much. Whenever another guy shows even the slightest attention to you, I get a little…protective. But that's not fair to you. So, I want you to know that I trust you."

All the air in my lungs escapes in one big gust as I stand speechless and shell-shocked. My jaw moves up and down slowly as though it wants to work, but nothing is coming out. My guilt and shame has evaporated, leaving me numb for a few blissful seconds, until another intense feeling of pain washes over me. It's as though Edward has stabbed me, my bleeding heart burning a fire in its wake.

_He trusts me._ I don't think I could feel any worse than I do in this moment. He loves me. He loves me, and he trusts me.

"No, Edward, you shouldn't be sorry. _I_ should be sorry. I _am_ sorry. I never should have gone to that stupid garage. I never should have-"

"Please, Bella, don't worry about it. Your car needed to be fixed, and you fixed it. You did what you had to do. I can't blame you for that, and I can't have you feeling guilty because of it either."

Why do I keep getting interrupted? I sigh deeply.

"I should probably go. Charlie will be looking for you in a minute." I nod in response, knowing he's right, but at the same time, my thoughts are a million miles away. Can I let him walk out this door without telling him? Can I let him go, believing he can trust me when he _clearly_ can't?

He kisses me chastely on the cheek. "I'll call you tomorrow, Bella. I love you."

"You love me?" I ask in a whisper. Edward smiles brightly, looking at me, all the love he shares with me reflecting in those green eyes.

"Of course I love you. I love you more than anything." His declaration does little to calm me. In fact, it does quite the opposite as my fear, remorse and guilt heighten.

"Are you sure?" I want him to say no. I _need_ him to say no, because if he doesn't love me, then my betrayal won't hurt him nearly as badly.

"Why are you asking me this?"

"It's just that- I just think that maybe you're better than me."

"That's impossible. You're the best person I know, and I love you all the more for it. Now, Bella, tell me. Really, what's this about?"

It's about me kissing someone else. It's about me not wanting to lose you because I think you may be the best thing that has ever happened to me and probably will ever happen to me. It's about me being so completely and utterly confused that I don't know what to do.

I can't answer his question. Not yet.

Fear propels me forward as I rush into him, crushing my lips to his.

Edward stills at first, taken by surprise, but he quickly wraps his arms around me, returning the kiss eagerly.

Squeezing my eyes shut tightly, I push all my confusing and contradictory thoughts to the back of my mind. I'm cherishing this kiss.

Because it may be the last that I ever share with him.

* * *

**A/N:** So..do you think she'll tell Edward?

I hope you enjoyed this chapter, sorry, I know there was a lack of "Bad-boy Jake" but even though he's not in this chapter, he still kind of is.

I want to say a quick thanks to all you wonderful reviewers. I am so shocked that we're close to 100 reviews already. Please continue to review, I love hearing all your thoughts and guesses. I try to write back to each and every one of you but if I miss you please forgive me.

I also want to say thanks to luvinj for recing the story. Feebes86 for supporting me through the chapter and dazzledbyjake for the amazing banner! (Check it out on my profile page!) And an extra special thanks to my fellow peas in the pod, jkane180 for betaing and wordslinger for prereading. You girls are my new bff's!


	6. Chapter 6

_Oof!_ The air is forcibly pushed out of my chest as a heavy weight bounces on top of me. A pair of legs straddles my hips as two hands, roughly the size of my own, land atop my chest.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead!" Alice's voice sings out to me. Her hands grip my shoulders, shaking them and bouncing us on my full size mattress. Swatting uselessly at her hands, I twist and turn unsuccessfully trying to shove her off of me.

"Get out of bed!" she practically yells in my ear. Opening one blurry eye, I check the clock on the nightstand: nine twenty-six. With a long groan, I cover my face with the pillow. I feel like I've just fallen asleep an hour ago. I tossed and turned most of the night before, barely getting any rest at all. When I did finally fall asleep, I was assaulted by a variety of dreams of Edward, Jacob, and his girlfriend, which would jolt me back awake.

"Come on, Bella! Out of bed! The sun is up, the birds are singing, it's a beautiful morning, and you're missing it!" She shakes me a few more times for emphasis.

"I wanna miss it," I say, my words muffled from under the pillow. "It's too early. Go home, Alice. Come back in about two hours." My grip tightens on the pillow knowingly, just before she tries to rip it away. She growls a little at her failed attempt.

"Isabella Marie Swan, if you don't get up this minute, I'll bring out the air horn." My eyes fly open as I flip the pillow over.

"You wouldn't!"

"Oh, we both know that I would." She threateningly starts toward her purse; my eyes widen in fear. I know there's an air horn in there; it's her self defense weapon, though she typically only uses it as a mean way to wake me.

"Okay, okay!" I nearly shout. "I'm up!" Alice smiles triumphantly, her hands clasp onto her thighs as she's still straddling me at the waist.

"Good, now get dressed. We're meeting everyone at the beach in an hour."

"Who's going?"

"Everyone. The weatherman said this is probably the last day of summer we're going to get, so we want to spend it at First Beach."

"Okay, but who's everyone?" What I want to ask is 'will Edward be there?' but I know how weird that would sound. Alice is as clueless as anyone, and I definitely don't want her asking questions. I'm not sure that I want to spend the day with Edward after last night either.

"Angela, Ben, Mike, Jessica, and the bitch, Lauren." Alice rolls her eyes as I wait with bated breath, silently wondering if she'll mention Edward. But I shouldn't have worried; Alice smiles at me meaningfully.

"Yes, I'm sure your boyfriend is going too." My response is nothing more than a long exhale. I don't know how to feel about that at all. Should I feel happy? Relieved? Nervous? Perhaps spending the day with him is exactly what I need.

Throwing the blankets back, I sit up while Alice crawls off of me.

"Do you have to shower? Cause I kinda told everyone we'd be there in about thirty minutes." Alice throws me an apologetic grimace.

I shake my head at her; I don't need to shower. After the kiss with Jacob last night, then Edward, I felt irrationally dirty. As a result, I ended up taking an extremely long and exfoliating shower, scrubbing off at least three layers of skin while crying.

"I'll just throw my hair in a ponytail and brush my teeth. Give me ten minutes." Alice comfortably props herself up on my pillows as I shuffle to the bathroom. A groan erupts from my chest as I take in my appearance in the mirror. I look terrible. Remind me never to go to sleep with my hair wet again. The knotted mess looks like a pack of squirrels could take up residence in there. My cheeks are a little puffy from crying while the bags under my eyes have increased and darkened due to my lack of sleep.

My actions from last night haunt me, like dark and dismal shadows looming over my head. The heaviness of my decision weighs across my heart as I try to tame the squirrels' nest.

In one split second last night, my decision was made.

I didn't tell Edward about Jacob.

After I kissed him, he looked at me with those deep green, beautiful eyes; so full of love and trust and devotion. I couldn't do it. I couldn't bare the thought of those eyes looking at me any differently.

It's selfish. I know that. I know it's selfish and dishonest and completely incorrigible. But what other choice did I have?

Though, if I'm being truthful, it wasn't just the look in Edward's eyes that made my decision. It was Jacob too.

His kiss had been so special in its own unique way. It was comforting, sweet, and unexpected. It was- in all its simplicity- perfect. And I couldn't taint that.

I didn't want to taint it. It was a good memory, a good moment, and a wonderful kiss. The first and last that I would ever share with him. In that split second, when I looked into Edward's emerald eyes, I knew what to do.

Now, here I am, getting ready to spend an entire day at the beach with my friends and my boyfriend.

This should be fun, right? Then why am I dreading it?

I attempt to clear my thoughts, concentrating on nothing but the blackness behind closed eyelids. Slowly, I open my eyes, locking them on the girl in the mirror. She looks so different from the girl I knew a week ago. She stares back at me with a blank expression, her hollow brown eyes portraying nothing. Who is this girl? Where is Bella Swan?

I drop my head into my hands, my elbows landing on the countertop. _Ow_! My fall in the kitchen last night flashes through my mind, and with a sharp intake of breath, I hiss through my teeth, pulling my arms up to examine my elbows in the mirror. Large bruises encircle the bones; black, blue and purple swirl together, causing an ugly discoloration of skin that fits perfectly with my mood. I turn my back to my reflection, pulling my pants halfway down my rear and examining a similar bruise around my tailbone. There's nothing I can do about my elbows, but luckily, the bruise on my rear will be covered up by my swimsuit at the beach.

I let out a sigh, thinking about the day ahead of me; a day spent with my friends, acting as though everything's normal.

I immediately begin shaking my head. I'm not ready for this. How am I supposed to act like nothing's wrong when I feel like I'm being eaten away on the inside?

I have no choice really. With a deep breath, I try to reassure myself, _I can do this_. I _will_ do this. I will move forward and forget about the past. It's the only way I'll be able to get through. I just have to push all my negative thoughts and feelings aside. Mentally, I picture placing them into a large trunk, securely locking them inside.

Taking a few deep breaths, I continue getting ready, carefully applying waterproof mascara, eyeliner, and a thick coat of concealer to hide my dark circles. Dropping my hands down to my sides, I turn back to my reflection; shaking out my body, my hands and my head, I lock eyes with the girl in the mirror once more, a look of fierce determination etched on her face.

"You're going to go and have fun," she commands me. "It's just another day. No worries and no Jacob."

I nod back to her. Grabbing my hairbrush, I head back to my bedroom.

Alice has moved her position to my desk, taking it upon herself to pull up my iTunes and begin playing some music. She twists around in her chair and points to her bare wrist as a silent reminder that I need to hurry. I roll my eyes and huff a little.

"You know it's not my fault that you told them we'd be there in thirty minutes," I remind her. Picking out my blue striped bikini, I step into the closet, closing the door half way so I can still talk to Alice yet have a little privacy while changing.

"Sorry! I didn't know that I was going to wake the walking dead this morning."

I roll my eyes again as my cell phone beeps. "Alice, could you check that? It's just a text." My arms are folded behind my back, tying the strings together.

"Bella, is there something you'd like to tell me?" Alice's question is like being splashed with cold water.

I'm momentarily stunned, wondering how a text could cause her suspicion, until an image of Jake assaults me. _'There. Now you have my number' he says as he tosses my cell phone into my lap._ There's a very good chance that Alice just read a message from Jake!

My foot catches as I step into my jean shorts, hastily throwing them on and running out of the closet at the same time. I stumble into the door. Grasping the handle, I regain my footing and catch Alice's quizzical look at my phone. My heart flies frantically in my chest, terrified by what it could say, especially if it's from _him_. As she looks up at me with one perfectly groomed eyebrow raised, I stop breathing.

My mouth opens, but of course, nothing comes out. I have no idea what to say or even how to act. I break eye contact, dropping my head and fastening the button on my shorts as something to do to stall for time.

"What do you mean?" I try to feign innocence, wondering all the while what the hell is on that message to make her ask me that.

"Are you and Edward okay?" My head snaps up, and my eyes latch onto hers. _Oh,_ _no_. _What does that message say? What does she know?_ A thousand possibilities fly at me as I try to reign in my obvious fidgeting.

"Wha-what? I mean, yeah, why do you ask? Who's the text from?" She gives me a skeptical look and stares down at the phone again.

"I want to say it's from Edward, but that's not what your phone reads," she remarks curiously. For a second, I'm stumped; I can only draw one conclusion, and it's that Jake has sent me a message that's inappropriate or crude; the kind of message that only your boyfriend should be sending you.

I try not to sound exasperated. "You're really starting to freak me out, Alice. What's it say?"

"It says, 'Guessing Alice told you, we're all going to the beach. I'm leaving in ten. Do you want me to pick you up?'"

I let out a sigh of relief. "So it's from Edward? That's doesn't sound bad at all. Why are you making such a big deal of it?"

She stifles a giggle. "Because he's been programmed in your phone as 'Doucheward.' At first I thought maybe you were fighting, and you did it, but apparently, you had no idea." My jaw drops; I forcibly close it with an audible snap. "Who do you think did it?" she asks curiously.

Think? No, Alice. I _know_ who did it! I just can't _believe_ it, though I shouldn't be surprised; it's not like any of Jake's brazen actions are new to me. I stalk forward, ripping the phone out of Alice's fingers and begin scrolling through the rest of my contacts, checking to see what other damage he's done. My heart skips a beat as I reach the J's, but his name isn't there. From the looks of things, Edward's is the only one that he changed. I quickly edit it back and look to Alice.

"I don't know who could've done it," I lie. "It could've been anybody. Do you want Edward to come get us?" It's my subtle yet not so subtle attempt to change the subject.

Alice distractedly nods, so I text a quick reply as I walk back to my closet.

"It is kind of funny, _Doucheward_." I shoot her a dark look. "Sorry, but it is. Come on, let's think about this. Who would've done that to your phone?"

At this point, I'm barely paying attention to what I'm doing; reaching into my closet, I pull out an old, oversized t-shirt and shrug it on. I really, really don't want Alice obsessing over this, but I have a feeling she won't give up unless she has a satisfactory answer.

"I dunno," I shrug as though I don't care, hoping she'll follow in my nonchalance and drop it. No such luck.

"Well, think about it! Who would've had access to your phone yesterday?"

In one quick sweep, I pull my hair back into a pony tail, biding my time before I have to answer her.

"I keep my phone in the outside pocket of my bag; anyone could've picked it up." Grabbing my beach bag, I begin scouring my room for any necessary essentials, throwing in my hairbrush, a bra and panties before I make my way to the bathroom for a towel and sunscreen. Alice's echoing voice follows behind me.

"Anyone who knew it was there! It's not like you leave it out in the open where just anybody could see it." I stand in the bathroom a moment, purposefully taking my time as I look to the girl in the mirror. She's biting her lip. "I bet it was one of the guys during lunch," Alice concludes.

I want to end this conversation as quickly as possible. Walking back into the bedroom, I contemplate a quick lie (seems I've been doing a lot of that lately).

"You know, you're probably right. I sat next to Mike at lunch; it was probably him."

"It does seem like something he would do," Alice ponders, not entirely convinced.

Slipping my feet into some worn, black flip-flops and throwing my bag over my shoulder, I collect her attention by clapping my hands together. "Let's go. I'm ready."

Her eyes snap up, raking over me from head to toe; she gives me a disdainful look.

"Ready? You look like a hobo!"

"I do not!" I retort, looking down at my baggy _Fraggle Rock_ t-shirt and jean shorts. I have to admit, I don't look _good_, but I certainly don't look like a hobo. "Anyway, what did you expect? Between you and Edward I've only had fifteen minutes to get ready."

Alice shakes her head disapprovingly. "At least change your shirt."

"What for? I'm just going to take it off when we get there anyway." She still looks like she's about to refute, so I firmly add, "I'm not changing."

Alice and I flow down the stairs, taking a quick detour to the kitchen to throw a few bottles of water into my beach bag. Charlie's sitting at the bar, hot cup of coffee in one hand and the newspaper in the other.

"Morning, Daddy."

"Good Morning, Charlie," Alice's chipper voice calls at the same time as mine, pulling his gaze away from the paper to us.

"Mornin' Bells, Alice," he smiles. "What are my beautiful girls up to today?"

"We're going to the beach," I answer, picking up an apple for breakfast.

"We heard this might be the last chance we get this year before the weather turns," Alice further explains.

"Yeah, I heard that too." Charlie's gaze shifts from my best friend to me; his eyes crinkle as his smile falters. I bite my lip. I know what he's doing; he's checking over my 'appearance.'

"Is that what you're wearing, Bells?" He slowly lifts his mug to his lips and takes a sip, keeping his eyes locked with mine. Normally he's not afraid to tell me to change, but with Alice here he's trying to be affable.

"Yeah," I reply with a shrug. "We're just going to the beach."

Charlie purses his lips, giving me his 'disapproving dad' look. "That's no reason to go looking like a beach bum."

Alice raises her eyebrows, fighting a smile as she looks at me with that silent I-told-you-so look. I roll my eyes at the both of them.

"I don't think I look that bad," I say in a small voice.

Charlie continues, "The beach'll be busy today, don't you think? And you never know who you'll run into while you're out." He's given me this type of speech before, so I know I can't win. I look to Alice, but it's obvious that she's on his side. Ugh! I can't believe my best friend is choosing sides with my father!

With exaggerated effort, I throw my arms out and huff, "Fine, I'll go change!" Just as I turn to leave, I spot the pan of brownies on the counter. I scoop one up and place it on a napkin. Practically shoving it in Alice's face, I hand it over to her, wickedly laughing on the inside. "Here, have a brownie while you wait."

Charlie makes a slightly disgusted face but quickly masks it. He knows how awful those brownies are. I was cleaning up the fiasco in the kitchen last night after Edward left when Charlie came in asking when the brownies would be done. Apparently after he'd calmed down about the mess, he'd decided he wanted them. I went ahead and finished the mixture, estimating the portions that had missed the bowl and fighting with my memory on what ingredients were already added. Needless to say, the result was far from edible.

Alice bounces on her toes, giving me a nod of 'thanks' as I make my way to the door. I turn around just in time to watch her take a bite, her beautiful features contorting to repugnance as she manically searches for a way to spit out the offending treat. I can no longer reign in my revengeful laughter; even Charlie's covering his smile with the paper. He scoots his coffee mug to the edge of the bar, allowing Alice a drink.

As I make a mad dash to my bedroom, Alice's screeching voice follows with threats on my life.

~~-BoM-~~

Pulling off the strappy white sandals that I've worn in place of the black flip-flops, I arrange them neatly next to my bag. Alice whips her towel, laying it out between Angela and me. The girls of our group have made a line of beach towels, with Jessica's at the far end, Lauren, Angela, and Alice in the middle, and then mine on the opposite end. The boys of the group sit periodically in front of us, fussing over their surfboards and pulling on wetsuits – with the exception of Edward, who has made himself comfortable on the top of my towel, urging me to sit down in front of him.

Gripping the hem of my light blue sundress, I begin to pull it up, fighting a flush of embarrassment. I don't know why, but I hate undressing in front others, even if it's just coming down to a swim suit. I'm overly self-conscious about the act, maybe because it feels sexual in some way.

Folding the flowery blue sundress (which passed both Charlie and Alice's inspection), I place it gingerly in the bag as I sit down in front of Edward. He's lying diagonally across the towel, propped up on one elbow with his legs stretched out on the sand. I allow myself to relax against him, leaning my back on his smooth stomach and extending my legs the length of the towel. I'm refusing to allow myself to think of the last time I was on the beach. I force the flickering images of sitting next to Jake in the sand and that kiss out of my mind. Guilt crawls through me, but I shove it away, back into the chest where it belongs.

Edward's free hand brushes though my ponytail, causing me to jump. I quickly mask my startled expression with a small smile and look down at him. His beautiful emerald eyes are shining up at me, gazing at me as if trying to see right into my soul. I can't help but marvel at the devotion that I see in them. _He loves me so much._

For a sweet moment, we're in our own little bubble, lost to the outside world. Edward's become enraptured with my hair, lightly pulling on the loose spirals framing my face and watching as they bounce back into place. I wonder how I could have ever considered hurting him. What an idiot I've been. Our relationship is so easy, so natural. Bending awkwardly, I lean down to give him a chaste kiss.

Lauren's sickly sweet voice cuts through my serenity. "Wow, Alice, a bright red bikini? You must really have confidence in your inner beauty."

Alice has just removed her tank top and is working on the shorts.

"Thanks," Alice replies nicely to her back-handed compliment. "I really like your new suit, Lauren. It doesn't make you look nearly as big as the pink one."

I can feel Edward's silent chuckles vibrating behind me; Ben, Mike and Tyler laugh out loud while Angela and I try to hold back our smiles. Jessica looks stunned while Lauren sneers.

Alice casually lies back on her towel, propped up by her elbows. "You know," she says to no one in particular, "we found something interesting on Bella's phone today."

_Oh crap, Alice! Don't!_

My eyes dart nervously from Alice to Edward to Mike.

"Oh, really?" Edward perks up curiously. Of course, anything to do with me and he's all ears.

"It seems someone picked it up yesterday," Alice says conversationally, eyeing Mike. "Guess they thought it was a funny prank."

"What'd you find? Dirty pictures or something?" Mike asks.

"You should know, Mike, since you were sitting next to her at lunch." Alice lets the implication hang in the air as she stares him down, daring him to deny it.

Mike looks back at her like a deer caught in the headlights. "What?"

Alice gives an exasperated look as Ben chimes in for her, "You messed with Bella's phone yesterday?"

"Who the hell cares?" Lauren mutters as she lies back on her towel. For the first time _ever_, I'm in agreement with her.

"What'd he do, Alice? Take a picture of his junk?" Tyler laughs.

"Mike! You took a picture of your junk with Bella's phone?" Jessica stupidly yells, throwing a rock in his direction.

"What? No!" Mike turns red at the prospect.

I'm torn on what to do. I feel bad for not stopping Alice's interrogation of Mike and leaving him to fend for himself, but even if I did aver his innocence, I wouldn't be able to explain it without giving away Jake. This whole thing is a stupid mess that's gotten way out of hand.

"What did you find on your phone, Bella?" I try not to flinch when Edward addresses me instead of Alice.

"I'd rather not say," I answer truthfully. "It's really not that big of deal anyway."

"Come on, Mike, admit it!" Alice taunts.

"I really don't know what you're talking about," he replies.

Alice scrunches her face up like a petulant child. "So you didn't change Edward's name to Doucheward?"

They bust out laughing – all of them except for Edward and me.

"No," Mike wheezes out between snickers, "I definitely did not do that, but I want to know who did and congratulate them! That's hilarious!"

"I don't think it's funny," I state, perturbed and offended with all of them.

"It's all right, Bella," Edward whispers to me with an appreciative smile. "I don't care."

"No, you're right," Angela says, curling under her lips in an obvious attempt to reign in her smile. "It's not funny."

The laughter slowly dies down, but only after a few more grunts and murmurs of "_Doucheward_" are thrown in for good measure. I give each of them disapproving looks. Edward just strokes my hair, shaking his head slightly and rolling his eyes at our friends. Eventually, the girls go back to their sunbathing while Mike, Tyler, and Ben take their surfboards to the water.

After a moment's silence, Alice pounds her tiny fists into the sand. "I don't get it! If it wasn't Mike, then who was it?"

"Alice, let it go," I whine. I thought we were finally past this. I should've known better.

"I admit, I was wondering about it too," Edward says. Lauren and I groan at the same time. I almost feel like crying. Why couldn't they let this go?

"Edward, has anyone ever called you…_that_ before?" Alice asks.

"No, that's a new one for me. What about classes, Bella? Who did you sit by?"

Internally, I'm freaking out. These two are getting way too close to the truth. If I tell them who I sat by in my classes, it'll narrow down their possible suspects – Jake being one of them. Something inside tells me this is a very, very bad thing, though I'm not sure why. All I know is I want to keep their thoughts as far away from Jake and me together as possible.

I realize I'm taking too long to answer him, but I can't come up with an adequate lie or even a suitable change of subject.

"I don't know," I finally say with a defeated feeling in the pit of my gut.

"Well," Alice answers for me, "in History you sat next to…" My mind starts going into panic mode. I want to jump up, run, or scream. Instead, I sit shell-shocked, too terrified to move. "…me, I think Ashley, and behind you- Bella! Look out!" Alice shouts, her eyes looking past me. I turn my head, following her gaze.

Several things happen simultaneously. A large, shirtless male is running backwards, half tripping and half jumping to catch a football in mid-air. It slips cleanly through his fingers, landing somewhere in the vicinity of Lauren, who screams. The male then falls backward, twisting around as he goes. I begin to move, but I'm not fast enough as he lands on top of me. His hands slap down on either side of me, catching himself from crushing me completely, but his lower half has pinned down my legs. His eyes are locked downward as his face is practically nestled between my breasts.

I'm wide eyed and trapped against two men; this one on top of me and Edward still lying behind me. As the male on top of me laughs, I gasp with recognition.

* * *

**A/N:** I know, there was no Jake in this chapter either. But do not fear my dear ones, he is coming soon! This chapter was originally twenty pages which is twice as long as my normal chapters. So I decided to cut it in half. I promise, chapter 7 will be posting just as soon as I tweak it. ;-)

Anyway, how did we enjoy this update?

Thanks to my beta jkane180 and wordslinger for supporting me through this chapter! I don't think I could do it without you girls!


	7. Chapter 7

_I'm wide eyed and trapped against two men; this one on top of me and Edward still lying behind me. As the male on top of me laughs, I gasp with recognition._

"Woah! Talk about a perfect landing!" He mumbles to my boobs, "Sorry about that." Slowly, he lifts his head, eyes catching mine. A large smile lights up his face. "Sweetheart!"

"Embry," I breathe, still in a state of shock.

Embry lifts himself up, sitting back on his knees as Edward and I scramble to do the same. Edward's hands automatically wrap around my biceps, protectively anchoring me to him.

"Bella, are you okay?" Edward asks, but he's not looking at me; his eyes are shooting daggers at Embry, who doesn't seem to notice or care. Another boy comes jogging up, laughing. He's smaller than Embry and maybe a little younger, possibly my age. I can't help looking past him, scanning the area to see if Jake's with them.

I'm not sure if I'm disappointed or relieved that I don't see him.

"Dude, ten points on the landing! That was epic!" the boy jokes, but Embry ignores him, not taking his goofy grin or eyes off of me.

"To think, of all the tits on the beach, I fall into yours! Small world, huh?" Embry muses.

"Do you two know each other?" Edward asks, his grip tightening on my arms as I place a hand reassuringly on his knee. The action doesn't go unnoticed by Embry, who's now cocking his eyebrow.

"Yeah." I try to smile, but it feels horribly fake. "This is Embry. Embry, this is Edward, my _boyfriend_." I place an emphasis on the word. "Um," I continue awkwardly, "and this is Alice, Angela, Lauren and Jessica."

"We've already met," Lauren flirtatiously throws in. "Hi, Embry," she seductively coos. Her gaze roams down his body appreciatively while I roll my eyes.

With Edward's manners engrained in his head, he lets go of my shoulder long enough to hold out his hand. "Nice to meet you, Embry."

Embry stares at Edward's hand for a second before the corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk and he glances at me. I have no idea what that look means, but it terrifies me. Slowly, Embry raises his hand to clasp onto Edward's.

"Since this asshole's not going to introduce me," the boy laughingly jabs Embry, "I'm Seth." Seth wipes his hand off on his swim trunks before slapping it with Edward's in a much more playful handshake.

With the momentary distraction, Embry takes the opportunity to whisper in my ear, "A boyfriend? I think I had you pegged all wrong, Sweetheart." I start to object, to explain myself, but there's no chance without being seen or heard.

"I guess this is yours then?" Jessica asks, holding up the forgotten football.

"Yeah, sorry about that," Seth says, sheepishly taking the ball back from her.

"No harm, no foul," Lauren returns.

"No harm?" Alice pipes up. "Did you not see Bella get trampled?"

"She's fine, Alice. Don't be such a drama queen," Lauren snaps back.

Angela interrupts to cut off their bickering, "Why don't you and Embry join us? Have a seat, Seth."

"Cool, thanks." Seth happily sits cross-legged in the sand across from her, the football twirling in his fingers.

Lauren shamelessly leans forward, practically shoving her breasts into his face. "You don't go to Forks High, do you?" Flipping her hair, she adds, "I think I'd remember you."

"Nah, Embry and I go to school on the Rez." I'm more than a little surprised by this information. When I saw Embry last night, I'd thought he graduated already, but he's still in high school. Maybe Jake's age. This inadvertently brings a new question to my mind: _why doesn't Jake go to school on the Reservation, too?_

"Oh? What grade?" Lauren asks with a sultry voice, deliberately biting her lip. I imagine she's batting her eyelashes behind those Louis Vuitton sunglasses too.

Seth swivels the football in the air, oblivious to her flirting. "Embry's a senior. I'm just a sophomore."

Lauren's reaction is comical; her nose wrinkles, and her mouth falls into a grimace as if he's said he was twelve instead of only a year younger than us. She drops all pretenses of her earlier behavior, throwing herself back on the towel as she huffs. I know she refuses to date anyone our age or younger as she's repeatedly reminded us, she's only into "older guys."

Angela and Alice politely continue conversation with Seth while Edward returns his arm to my waist.

"So, how do you know my Bella?" Edward asks. His usage of the word "my" does not escape my attention. Furthermore, I'm not sure that I like the way it sounds. I'm not a dog. I don't belong to him. But on top of being annoyed by Edward's possessive words, I'm nervous and scared.

My eyes search Embry's, telepathically pleading with him. _Please_ don't say anything about me being with Jake last night.

Either telepathy works or Embry feels like taking pity on my poor, tortured soul. "We met last night. I work at Uley's garage; I fixed her car," he says, shifting his eyes from mine to Edward's.

"Yes, she told me she had a little car trouble." Embry doesn't bother to hold back his smile, a knowing glint in his eye. I scowl at him.

"Something about crossed wires?" I inquire with a little smirk of my own. I want to give Embry the hint that I figured out Jake was behind the whole ordeal. "That seems odd, doesn't it? I mean, how do wires get crossed anyway?"

His brow cocks impressively, and I know he's gotten my hint. "It's pretty common for wires to become loose. My guess is someone tried to put them back but crossed them by mistake." Mm-hmm, someone named Jake.

"Well, I don't know who could've done that." I give Embry a pointed look but, for Edward's sake, add, "Unless it was my dad."

"Oh well," Embry shrugs, "it didn't cost a thing to fix. That's why we let you go free of charge." Somehow we've begun an underlying conversation. I've taken his comment as, _'Hey, it was all fun and games. Don't take it badly.' _

"Does it happen often?" I ask, but what I mean is, _'How many other girls has Jake done this to?_'

"I think you might have been our first," Embry answers both questions.

Knowing Jake's never done that to another girl makes me feel relieved, even special. And only a little stalked.

"Still, you could've charged her for the labor," Edward chimes in, "goes to show that you're working for an honest place."

Embry laughs while I smile. Edward has no idea how _dishonest_ they were, considering my car wasn't broken to begin with. "That's true," I say to placate Edward. "I guess I owe him one."

Embry looks at Edward, then directly at me. "Yeah, Sweetheart, you owe me one."

Edward tenses beside me. _Uh oh_, does he think Embry and I are flirting? I know Embry calling me sweetheart is inappropriate, but it's more a nickname than an endearment. Of course, Edward doesn't understand that. I chance a glance at him, noticing the muscle in his jaw twitching. I want to put him at ease, but what can I say? _'Don't get the wrong idea, honey. We're not flirting. He's just saying I owe him one because he's not ratting me out to you about Jake!'_

Yeah, 'cause that would go over nicely.

Before I can say anything to diffuse the situation, a shadow falls over us.

"Well, if it isn't Bella Swan," says a new voice; craning my neck back and squinting at the sun, I look up to Quil.

"Swan?" Seth inquisitively turns to Embry. "As in-"

"Chief Swan, yeah, kid, try to keep up," he answers evasively.

Quil's eyes are set on Lauren, who's still lying back on her towel, her eyes hidden behind her sunglasses. "Hey, Lauren."

At the sound of her name, her head pops up. Her lips pull into a tight, almost shy smile. That's odd; I've never seen Lauren show anything but the utmost confidence. "Hi, Quil."

"Where's Jake?" Seth asks.

Bless this kid. I think I could kiss him.

"That reminds me. You owe me five bucks, Call. We've been here ten minutes, and he's already getting a girl's number." Quil looks over his shoulder; my eyes automatically follow in the direction of his gaze. Jacob's standing about twenty feet away from me, shirtless, with his signature smirk playing on his mouth and one hand on a redhead's waist. I can't tear my eyes away from him as his head dips down, whispering into her ear; she giggles so loudly I can hear her clear over here. Heat rushes to my face, and I don't know if it's out of anger or jealousy.

The redhead's beautiful; fair skinned, tall and curvy. By curvy I mean that her boobs are falling out of her top, which Jake seems more than fine with.

Of course I do the only thing I can do. I tell myself I don't care. If he wants to flirt with every girl in town, _let him_. If he wants to cheat on his girlfriend with them, _fine_. But he's not doing it with me. _Not anymore_.

"Shit," Embry exclaims. Digging in his pocket, he pulls out a five and slaps it in Quil's hand.

Apparently I like to torture myself as my eyes drift back to Jake and the redhead. His hands are placed low on her hips, his nose to her jaw. I can't tell from here if he's kissing her or whispering again.

I hear Jessica quietly asking Lauren if she's all right with Jake flaunting the redhead right in front of her. It seems selfish and rude, but I honestly don't care how Lauren feels about it. I feel like I've just been punched in the gut and not a single person's asking me if _I'm_ okay. But then again, why would they? No one really knows what's going on between us. And I have Edward. I shouldn't be worrying about Jacob anyway.

A hand brushes lightly across my knee. Dragging my eyes away from Jake, I see Embry looking intently at me. His touch was subtle and went unnoticed by anyone else, but a sweet gesture, all the same. For once, he isn't smiling but looking at me sympathetically.

I feel like crying. Embry knows. He knows about Jake and me – well, kind of. He doesn't know everything. He doesn't know about the bet, but he was in the garage yesterday. He told me Jake likes me. My subconscious voice rudely adds, _he also said Jake would break your heart. _At the time I thought he was joking. Maybe he wasn't.

"Are we gonna toss this football or what?" Seth enthusiastically asks as I notice that I've tuned out the last few minutes of conversation.

"Edward, are you in?" Quil asks, slapping him on the back. I guess they introduced themselves while I was zoned out. Damn, what else did I miss?

Edward looks imploringly at me before answering, silently asking for my permission. Not that he needs it.

"Go have fun." I try to smile, but my lips twitch awkwardly. "I'll watch you from here."

Edward closes the distance between us, bringing one hand up to my neck as he crushes his lips to mine. I would've expected a small peck before he ran off, but this is much more than that. He works his lips against mine, parting them to deepen the kiss as his other hand rides up my thigh. I'm both shocked and embarrassed by his PDA.

"Get a room!" Seth jokingly coughs. I start to pull away, but Edward drags me back in, kissing me ardently a moment longer. My brain works overtime trying to figure out what it means. It's not like him to kiss me like this in front of people. The only time he's done it before was in front of Jake. _Oh_. Now I get it. He's showing the guys I'm taken. Mostly for Embry and Jake's benefit, I'm sure.

When Edward finally pulls away, I feel a little stunned. I look around quickly to see who noticed our very public display. Quil and Seth have run off already, tossing the football between them. Embry's backed up a few more feet, his hands in his pockets and a very amused look on his face. Then I catch Jake, who's standing rigid in front of the same redhead, his fists clenched at his sides and stone-cold eyes locked with mine. The redhead's hands rub his biceps, trying to coax his attention back to her, but he doesn't budge.

I quickly shift my eyes back to Edward, chastising myself for looking at Jake while my boyfriend is sitting right in front of me. He deserves better from me. I promptly move for damage control; cupping his face in both my hands, I give him a sly smile.

"Don't be gone too long," I whisper, leaning in and giving him one last, languid kiss.

"I won't," Edward replies, smiling and finally jumping up.

Embry's got a smirk the size of Texas on his face as he looks back at me; he shifts his gaze to Jake, then me again, shaking his head slightly as he jogs off next to Edward.

I keep my eyes perfectly trained on them, watching as they catch up to Quil and Seth and refusing to look in the direction of Jake. Maybe it's childish of me, but I feel a small sense of satisfaction that Jake saw what he did.

"What was that all about?" Alice asks me, slapping my arm.

"What?"

"_That_! With Edward! Are you two…like…" she animatedly waves her hands, "…doing it?"

My cheeks burn pink. "No! God, Alice! Why would you ask me that?"

"Because I've never seen you two," she points two fingers at Edward and me, "show that kind of affection before."

"Seriously, I was about to barf," Lauren quips.

"That was some pretty hot and heavy action," Jessica adds. Angela nods in agreement.

If it's possible, my cheeks burn hotter. "No, we're not- I mean, that was-" I'm too flustered to get out a straight sentence. Not to mention I'm too embarrassed to even think properly. "I need to go to the bathroom!"

I stumble to my feet as quickly as I can, grabbing my sandals with one hand, while practically running away.

"Don't think for a second that you're getting off that easy! We're continuing this discussion when you come back!" Alice yells behind me, but I ignore her; slipping on my shoes as soon as I get to the asphalt, I make a beeline for the small, brick shack containing the public restrooms.

There are only two stalls inside, each occupied, not that it matters; I didn't come in here to actually use the bathroom, just to get away for a minute. Grasping the dirty porcelain sink, I steady myself.

_Since when did I become such a spaz? _

All they did was ask if Edward and I are having sex. It's a simple yes or no question.

This is all Jacob's fault! If it wasn't for him and that stupid bet, I wouldn't be freaking out anytime someone mentions sex. All I had to do was say, _No, Edward and I are not doing it_. Leaving out the part where even if I wanted to, it's Jake's one condition that we can't…at least for the next few months…while he takes a shot at it.

_Oh, God. _

Turning on the cold water, I splash my face a few times, finally cooling down my hot cheeks. The stool behind me flushes, and a woman emerges; there's only one sink in this restroom, so I know it's time for me to move. Ripping a few paper towels out of the dispenser, I dry off my face and exit the room.

A warm hand grips my wrist, yanking me sideways and back, pulling me around the corner of the brick shack. I should scream, but anything vocal is stuck in my throat with terror. That is, until I see Jake.

I'm assaulted with a multitude of feelings at once. I'm so angry with him, hurt and confused. Part of me wants to groan and walk away; he's the last person I wanted to see today. And yet another part of me wants to hug him and couldn't be happier – as if my feelings couldn't get any more conflicted. But the third part of me, the most dominant part, is afraid. He looks mad.

My fear doesn't deflate as I take in his features; his eyes are dark and glowering down at me, his mouth is pressed into a hard line, and his hands are clenched at his sides. This is the first time I've ever seen him with his shirt off. His smooth russet skin looks soft to the touch, yet the fierce black swirls contradict it. Even his tattoo matches his demeanor as it wraps around his muscled bicep in an angry, intricate pattern. The thick lines slash up his shoulder and down his bare chest, the tips curling around his pecks.

Tearing my gaze away from the black ink, I look back into his fury-filled eyes, wondering, _What does he have to be mad about?_

If anyone has a right to be angry, it's me! I've gone through hell these past couple of days because of him. He's the one that tampered with my phone _and_ my car. He's the one who kissed me and left me last night to go see his girlfriend. He's the one getting phone numbers and flirting with girls right in front of me. The list goes on!

I want to scream at him, cuss or hit him for all the crap he's put me through these last two days, but I don't get the chance.

Jake's fingers wrap around my neck, pulling me toward him as his lips crush down on mine hard. I'm too stunned at first to know what to do. His mouth forcefully attacks mine, his hand fisting around my ponytail. My eyes are wide open in shock as my hands immediately come up to his chest, shoving against him as hard as I can. But he doesn't relent. His teeth nip my bottom lip, urging me to respond.

Jake's hand at my waist pulls me flush against him, my bathing suit allowing for skin to skin contact, as he continues to kiss me. His bare chest and stomach press against my own, and it feels amazing. My head clouds over in a fog as my hands slacken against his chest; my eyes close, and my lips part, giving in to his advances.

He's kissing me in a way that I've never been kissed before. It's passionate, vigorous and angry. His fingers are digging into my skin, his lips moving with a bruising force over my own. His whole being is dominating over me, and I love it.

The bathroom door around the corner closes with a bang, clearing the fog as the voice in the back of my mind shouts, _Stop!_ _What the hell is the matter with you? You can't do this to Edward! __**Again**__!_

I jump out of his embrace, surprising him as I breathlessly step back until the palms of my hands touch the brick wall behind me. I'm acting as though I've been trapped by a wild animal that could attack at any moment. Actually, I just learned that's not far from the truth.

Then I do the stupidest thing you could ever do to a wild animal: I look him square in the eye. That offensive, cocky, condescending smirk sets his lips as his eyes dance with triumph.

White hot rage like I've never felt before boils up within me. I want nothing more than to wipe that smirk off his arrogant face! Before I even realize it, my arm snaps back and swings forward. A loud slap echoes off the wall.

_Holy crap! I slapped him!_

I'm not sure who's more stunned, Jake or me.

Disbelieving, I look down at my hand. It burns and tingles from the force of the blow, assuring me that I really did just do that. My wide eyes look to his cheek, its russet color tinged with a slight pink.

If it's possible, Jake looks even angrier.

"What the fuck was that for?" he seethes.

"I- I'm sorry. I don't know-" Shaking my head vigorously, I try to figure out what the hell has come over me. "I just- Don't do that to me!"

"Do what? Kiss you? I don't remember you having that reaction last night," he bites out.

"It was a mistake."

"The kiss or the slap?"

_Uh…_"Both."

He looks really pissed as he steps closer to me, his glowering eyes only inches from mine.

Through gritted teeth, he menacingly warns, "Fine, but never slap me again." He pulls back slightly, a dark smirk taking place. "Unless you're willing to take a rough fucking afterwards."

I do little more than blink back at him. I'm too stunned and overwhelmed to think. I've had so many emotions running through me in the past twenty seconds alone that I don't even know how I feel anymore. He's the only person who could illicit so many emotions out of me, then render me completely speechless.

"How 'bout it, Princess?" He leans over me, one hand pressed against the wall above my head as his dark eyes zero in on mine. "I could fuck you right here, right now, against this wall, so fucking hard you won't be able to walk straight."

If I wasn't so terrified of him doing just that, I'd slap him again.

How can he be so mean and vulgar to me on purpose? I don't understand why he's acting like this. It's a complete one-eighty from the way he was last night when he was actually being sweet to me. I prefer him that way. I _like_ him that way.

"No, thank you," I reply firmly, letting the disdain leak in my voice.

He lets out a small huff of a laugh, bringing his other hand to the wall above me as he leans in, eyes boring into mine. "What if I were Doucheward? Would you do it then?"

"_What_?" I'm completely caught off guard by his question – not to mention confused beyond belief and extremely annoyed that he called him Doucheward again. I've heard that nickname enough today to last me a lifetime.

"You heard me. If I were Doucheward, would I get to fuck you against this wall?" His words are dripping with malicious venom as he towers over me.

"You're being mean," I state simply and quietly. I still don't understand why he's asking this or even acting this way, but I don't like it. I especially don't like what he's implying.

"Am I? Well, sorry if I'm not all rainbows and sunshine after being slapped," he growls.

I take a deep breath, my patience running thin. All right, I slapped him; he has a right to be upset about that. But I have more of a right to be angry than he does! He's been making my life a living hell! The crap he's put me through these last few days is way worse than the slap I gave him.

"I said I was sorry! But you had no right to do that. I didn't want to kiss you!"

"Are you sure about that, Princess? You didn't seem to be objecting when your tongue was down my throat."

"Consider it a momentary lapse in judgment," I say sardonically.

"As I remember it, you had the same lapse in judgment last night, _and_ I had you singing a different tune."

"Don't say it like that. You make it sound like we did more than kiss, and that's all it was! A stupid kiss!" A stupid kiss that was perfect. And that I swore I'd never repeat until about a minute ago.

His eyes darken as his free hand grips my waist; his other is still poised above me on the brick wall.

"Is this stupid?" he asks, his fingers tightening around my hip bone and his head ducking down closer to mine. "Is this a mistake?"

Closing his eyes, he brushes his nose down my cheek to my jaw line, inhaling deeply. Parting his lips, he blows a cool breath across my heated skin, causing a shudder to run through me. My eyes fall closed as he runs his nose and lips from my pulse point to my ear, the same erotic way he did in the lounge on Monday.

"This feels too good to be a stupid mistake." His hot breath breezes across my ear. "I know it. You know it. Why fight it?"

A garbled sound emits from my throat, half whine and half groan. God, when did I become so easy? What happened to the strong, assertive Bella?

_She started liking Jacob Black_, my inner voice sneers.

_Well that's just too bad_, my conscious replies back. _He's a player looking for another notch on his belt! He's cheating on his girlfriend! And I refuse to be that girl!_

_You cheated on your boyfriend._

Crap, my inner voice is right. I already _am_ that girl.

But I don't want to be.

Okay, Bella, take control. Be assertive. Remember, you're just a bet, a conquest.

"You've already tried this move on me, remember? Why don't you go try it out on your little redhead and see how it goes? Better yet, take it to your girlfriend." Mentally giving myself a high five, I shove against his shoulders and move out from under him. Now that I'm a foot away from him, I'm able to think clearly.

And I'm pissed off beyond belief. It occurs to me that he _did_ use that move on the redhead. When I wasn't sure if he was kissing her or whispering, he was giving her the same erotic move he just gave me. _The bastard_!

"You're a pain in the ass, you know that?" Slapping the wall with his hand, he turns to face me with a growl.

_Oh, he did _not_ just growl at me_. Two can play this game.

Stalking straight up to him, I poke him in the chest. "And you're a manipulative, lying thief! Did you know _that_?"

"I'm the manipulative liar? Let me ask you, did you tell the boyfriend about your time with me last night?" I glare back at him but don't argue right away. "Fucking thought so. He seems just a little too happy for a guy who got fucked over. I gotta say I'm surprised; I didn't think you had it in you."

My face flushes hot again, only this time it's from sheer anger. "You have no right to lecture me about Edward! Not when you lied to your girlfriend about being with me! I guarantee you didn't go straight to her and tell her anything! I bet you didn't even wait ten seconds before you ripped her clothes off and fell into bed with her!"

"Be careful with your bets, Princess. You might wager more than you can handle." He smirks at me.

"You are such an ass!" I stamp my foot. Seriously, I stamp my foot and throw my arms down at my sides. I'm so mad that I no longer have control over my childish actions. I want to scream. Hell, I want to hit him again…and again, and again.

"We had an agreement," he spits, stepping toe to toe with me and pointing down at the ground.

"You think I forgot?" Is he kidding? This stupid bet is all I can think about!

"You tell me." My mind is racing but coming up blank. My expression must be similar as he carefully enunciates his next words. "Did you fuck him?"

"Oh, my God! Is that what this is about? You think I went back on our bet?"

"Just answer the fucking question, Princess." He furiously leans over me, his ebony eyes locking me in place.

"No!" I nearly scream. "Why does everyone think that? It was just a kiss!"

Visibly relaxing, Jake pulls back a step. "That was more than kiss. It was a promise for later."

"No, it wasn't. He won't be getting that from me anytime soon." Wrapping my arms across my chest, I add, "And neither will you."

Jake's demeanor slowly changes back to normal as his signature grin appears. "I'll change your mind."

I scoff, "You're unbelievable, you know that? You jump to conclusions about Edward and me, yet you've been less than truthful these last few days."

"I'm not the only one jumping to conclusions," he quips sarcastically, leaning his shoulders back against the wall; he crosses his arms and ankles.

"Did you really think that I wouldn't figure out what you did to my car? You tricked me into going out with you last night!"

"What did I do to your car?" he asks with feigned innocence.

"You made it break down!"

His eyebrows furrow; he's mocking me. "How did I do that?"

"I don't know! You're the mechanic."

"I can assure you, Princess; I didn't touch your engine." He smirks; I think he's making some sort of innuendo, but I choose to ignore it.

"Then how did you know to pick me up at six?"

"Call it premonition."

"I call it bullshit!" I shout.

His eyebrows rise as he pushes himself off of the wall. "Princess, did you just say a bad word?" He stalks closer to me, biting his bottom lip as though he's fighting a smile. I stand fixed to my spot as he cups my chin and slowly runs his thumb across my lips. "I can think of better things we could do with that dirty mouth."

I try to fight the blush from creeping into my cheeks but fail miserably. Jake brushes his knuckles across my jaw, slowly trailing a path down my neck. His eyes follow their descent, only stopping once his fingers touch the string of my bikini, an inch below my collarbone

His husky voice is barely audible when he says, "You lied, you know." I've been lying a lot lately. Which time is he talking about? "You said I'd never know how far your blush goes."

He flashes me a wolfish smile as his finger hooks around the string. "Won't be long now, and I'll see it without this top."

I swat his hand away. Fed up and frustrated, I start to walk off. His hand encloses on my bruised elbow to stop me, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain between my teeth. Jake drops his hand as if I'd burned him while I protectively hug my arm to my chest, cupping the sore spot. Tentatively, he removes my hand from my elbow to examine the bruise. Enraptured by his concern and gentleness, I let him, studying his face as he carefully handles my arm. His eyes switch from concern to a burning anger as his mouth forms a straight line.

"Who did this to you?" he asks. _Wait, what_? His question completely floors me. Why does he think someone did this to me? _Who_ does he think would do this to me?

"No one. I fell last night in the kitchen." His eyes search mine, as if looking for the truth behind them.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," I reply, still puzzled by his intense reaction, "I have a matching bruise on the other arm and my rear to prove it."

He checks my other elbow to be sure. Once satisfied, he relaxes and smiles. "Your rear, huh? Let me see." He tugs on my shoulder to turn me around, but I wiggle away.

"No! You can't see my rear!" He reaches for me again, but I jump back, smiling as he genuinely laughs. He tries to peek around me to get a glimpse of my backside, but I twist at the same time. We dance around each other, still hidden in our secluded corner, laughing and playing. I've never seen this playful side of him before, but I wish I had. His smile and laugh are intoxicating.

Still giggling, I move my back to the wall, attempting to back up into it. But it's a poor move because he darts forward, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me flush against him. Our laughter slowly dies down, but the goofy smiles remain.

Gradually, his warm hand moves up to my neck as he ducks his head toward mine. Nearly an inch away from kissing me, I interrupt him. "Stop. I can't do this."

"Sure you can." Touching his forehead to mine, he breathes against my lips, "You want me. You want this. Don't deny it."

"No." I pull away from him. "Maybe you can cheat on your girlfriend and not feel a shred of guilt, but I can't do that to Edward."

Jake cocks his head slightly, furrowing his eyebrows as though he's trying to figure me out. "You keep mentioning this girlfriend. Have I met her?"

I can't stop myself from rolling my eyes. Really, did he think I was stupid?

"Your girlfriend, Claire." His eyebrows rise as he bites out a sharp laugh.

"Claire is _not_ my girlfriend." I shake my head at him in disbelief.

"But you told her you loved her on the phone." He smiles back at me, holding in his laughter.

"That doesn't make her my girlfriend." _Huh_? I'm so confused.

"You went to her house! I saw you with her last night."

"What do you mean you saw me with her?"

_Oops_. "I, uh…"

"Did you follow me again?"

I force out a laugh that sounds totally fake. "No…Anyway, that's not the point." I hope to change the subject.

"Fine, we'll get back to that later." He sounds perturbed but not necessarily angry. "What's your point?"

"What about Edward?"

"What _about_ Doucheward?"

"Please stop calling him that! Do you have any idea the amount of trouble you've caused me today! Alice found your cute little change in my phone. They've been asking me all day who's behind it."

"So tell them." He shrugs.

"Are you crazy? There's no way I can tell them it was you." The results of that could only be disastrous.

"Wow, Princess. Now you're lying to your friends about me?"

"I'm not lying…per se. I'm just avoiding the truth." _Okay, I'm lying._

"How about I tell your precious boyfriend? It'll save you the trouble."

My heart skips a beat. "Tell him what, exactly?"

"About you and me. That I kissed you." He smirks as he adds, "That you liked it."

My eyes widen as I grip his arms in fear. "No! You can't do that! You promised you wouldn't!"

His gaze shifts from my hands on his arms to my pleading eyes. "I never promised anything like that."

"It was part of my condition that you couldn't tell anyone," I remind him, hoping against hope that he'll listen to me and not run off to find Edward.

"About the bet. I never said I wouldn't tell him about a kiss." _Shit, shit, shit_! I grapple for a reasonable excuse. I knew I should've come up with a better condition!

"Then I want to add that as a condition!" Still gripping his arms, I'm practically begging, knowing my puny grasp couldn't hold him if he decided to go.

"You can't add a condition," he replies coolly.

"Why not?" I whine.

Jake squints at me a moment while I worry my lip and cross my fingers, waiting for his response.

"Fine, but I get to add one too." Fear grips at my heart. His condition could be anything, and I'd have to agree to it, but what other choice do I have really?

"Okay," I reply, fully conscious of the butterflies in my stomach.

"You have to stop avoiding me. Let me take you out. I want to kiss you. I want to do _more_ than kiss you, and I want to be able to it without you constantly bringing up Doucheward. If he's going to be a problem, then I'll tell him everything right now." His words are calm and collected. My heart flutters as he says he wants to kiss me but drops when he brings up Edward. I can't help but acknowledge that last sentence as threatening.

Biting my lip, I look down at my shoes. Studying my white sandals, I nearly cry, "I don't know."

"Princess," Jake says sweetly, placing a finger under my chin he forces my gaze to his, "I know you're a good girl. I know you don't want to hurt anybody. But I also know that you enjoy being with me and kissing me. All I'm asking is that you let go. Don't think about him; don't worry about him. We're in high school for Christ's sake. Have some fun."

I simply nod, closing my eyes while taking a deep breath; I know he has a good point. I'm young and in high school; shouldn't I be dating around instead of spending all my time with one boy?

"Princess?" I open my eyes, finding him much closer than he was a second ago.

"Yeah?"

"Tonight," he says firmly.

"Tonight?" Does he mean… "Go out with you tonight? But I'm here with Edward and my friends. I don't know-"

He cuts me off. "What time's your curfew?"

"Uh, midnight, why?"

"I'll be outside your house at twelve-o-five. Be ready."

I start to object, but he silences me with a finger on the lips. "I'm going to kiss you now," his warm hand moves to cup my jaw, "and this time," he says, smiling, "you're not going to slap me."

Fighting back a small smile, I allow my eyes to close as Jacob's gentle lips form to mine. I find myself drifting closer, pressing the length of my body against his and my arms wrapping around his neck. I'm completely immersed in the moment, my heart beating frantically in my chest as his mouth moves perfectly with mine at a leisurely pace. The outside world has faded away as I've lost myself in Jake, too far gone to even register my name being shouted until it's almost directly behind me.

"Bella?" the voice calls again.

Jumping away from Jake, my palm automatically moves to cover my mouth as I turn around.

_Oh crap!_

_

* * *

_

A/N: I know, that's an evil place to leave off. But I hope I left you more than satisfied with our favorite bad boy!

And as a side note: I think I'm in love with Embry. Anyone with me?

Wishing you all a happy holiday season and many hugs! As always, I'm sending all my love to my fellow peas, jkane180 and wordslinger! I would never have gotten through this chapter without their support! Love you girls!


	8. Chapter 8

I twist around at the sound of my name with my hand clasped over my mouth and my eyes wide. Angela's a few feet away from me, partly concealed by the stone wall, standing in front of the restrooms with only her long brown hair and one shoulder visible.

The explosion of fear ebbs slightly as I realize we haven't been caught…_yet_.

During our playful chase, Jake and I moved away from the shack and into the sunlight. Stupidly forgetting our surroundings, I allowed him to kiss me – a decision I'm instantly regretting as Alice's voice comes next, echoing from within the bathroom walls. "Bella? Are you in here? Did you fall in?"

"She's got to be around here somewhere," Angela reasons when I don't respond. "Bella!"

My eyes stay locked on the small portion of Angela that I can see as she begins to step back into my line of vision and consequently bring _me_ into _hers_. I'm too terrified to even move. The beats of my heart resound in my ears; it's pounding so hard in my chest that I swear it's about to give out and render me into an early cardiac arrest.

It's as if the world is moving in slow motion, and I _know_ I'm completely screwed. Angela's whole body shifts backwards, the partial view of her shoulder turns into a whole one, followed by an arm, a hip, a waist, and just as her profile begins to form, a warm arm crosses my chest and pulls me backwards. I'm enveloped in the shadow of the shack and out of view as Jake pushes me up against the wall. His hard body presses me into the rough, cold stone, and for a split second, a small part of my brain notices how wonderful his bare chest feels against mine. But the larger part of me is still having a panic attack.

My eyes automatically check in the direction of Angela and Alice, but Jake's body is blocking me. From the slanted way that he's standing beside me and the way his arm is positioned on the wall next to my cheek, I realize he's trying to help hide me.

"_Oh, God_," I breathe, "What do we do?" My chest heaves against Jake's as I squeeze my eyes shut and drop my head back against the concrete wall.

"_Ow_," I whimper pathetically. Jake laughs softly, allowing his free hand to cup the back of my head where I hit it.

"Relax, it'll be fine." With his hand still on the back of my head, he smoothly leans down, capturing my lips in his.

Surprised, I abruptly pull away. "What are you doing?"

"I wasn't done yet," he smirks as he pushes his mouth to mine again.

Shoving him off, I fight to keep my voice a whisper. "Are you crazy? Alice and Angela are five feet away!"

I half whimper and half groan like the big baby I am while trying to peek around Jake to make sure they didn't hear me. Why doesn't the earth ever open up and swallow you whole when you want it to?

Jake pulls back slightly, searching my face. "You're really freaked out about this, aren't you?"

"Of course I'm freaked out! Just catching us like _this_," I frantically wave one arm up and down, gesturing to the way our bodies are molded against each other's, "would be disastrous!"

Jacob's brows crease, his jaw muscles twitch, and he looks like he's about to retort but stops as Angela's voice carries over to us. "Maybe she went to the car for something?"

"Maybe," Alice replies doubtfully, "but if we don't find her soon, I'm going to assume she was kidnapped and call Charlie."

Letting out a groan, I whisper to Jake, "I know it sounds like she's kidding, but she really will call my dad!"

I'm a spastic jittery mess as I try to find something to do with my hands. Rubbing them over my cheeks and through my hair doesn't seem to help, and I fight to control my panicked breathing.

Jake lets out a gruff, "Fine," as he takes my hand and begins leading me alongside the wall in the opposite direction of Angela and Alice. It's not that rounding the back side of the shack to hide hasn't already crossed my mind; it has, but I dismissed it quickly since it's encased by the forest line.

Jake leads me straight to the patch of brush; the unruly grass around it has grown to at least a foot high. The stone wall is heavily littered with intermingling vines, and the tree limbs swoop low, making any entrance a difficult task. Besides, I'm wearing a swim suit and sandals. The last thing I want to do is trek through all of that.

I'm about to ask him what his plan is now that he's brought me here, but just as I'm about to spill the words, he sweeps me off my feet - literally. I try not to let out a surprised squeal; my arms automatically cling to his neck and shoulders. His left hand grips my knee; his right's wrapped around my ribs, securing me to his chest. My questioning eyes meet his for a fraction of a second before he begins to make his way through the wooded area.

"Keep your legs tucked under," he commands as he ducks and weaves us through the thick brush. I comply, of course, bending my knees as much as I can over his muscular forearm and trying to mold myself into his body so I don't get scratched by the sharp twigs or branches. I press my cheek onto his shoulder, basically nuzzling into his neck, and close my eyes. My heart clenches in my chest as the traitorous part of my brain chooses this moment to remind me not to get too close. I can't fall for him. I can't feel these deep, passionate emotions for him when I know he's not going to return them to me.

_I'm just a bet; I'm just a bet; I'm just a bet_ continues to chant in the forefront of my mind.

He comes to a quick stop; my eyes shoot open to check our surroundings, and he sets me down on my feet. We're at the opposite end of the back wall. The trees are thinned out, and the grass cut back as the forest line meets with the blacktop.

Carefully, I peek around the corner just in time to watch Angela and Alice walking past, heading toward the parking lot in front of me.

Jake's hot hands grip onto my shoulders and turn me around to face him. His expression is unreadable; though, he doesn't look nearly as happy as he did a few minutes ago. But then again, I probably don't look happy right now either. I'm sure the expression on my face is a mixture of nerves, fear, and panic.

His brows furrow, and his lips form a hard line as he exhales deeply through his nose. His mouth opens and closes once, as though he's fighting for the right words.

He settles on saying, "Twelve-o-five, Princess. Don't forget."

Before I can form a response, Jake pulls me into him and crushes his mouth onto mine. His lips eagerly take a kiss from me and his movements are more frantic than before. I give in, of course; it seems I couldn't stop myself even if I wanted to. My arms wrap around his neck as I press our bodies together. I swear I can't get enough of feeling his bare chest against mine.

All too soon, Jake breaks away from me. I don't even have time to feel disappointed before he turns me around and shoves me from behind. I stumble out of the grove and onto the pavement next to the shack; a slight cry of surprise escapes me.

Alice and Angela twist around at the sound of my shout while it takes everything within me not to whip around and glare at Jake.

Alice's face is a mask of irritation while Angela's falls into a form of relief as they start to rush over to me. Somehow, I force my legs move toward them, still fighting the urge to check for Jake behind me.

"There you are," Angela says.

"We've been looking everywhere for you! Where the hell have you been?" Alice demands, her tiny fists propped on her hips in agitation.

"I, uh…" Shit, what do I say? Why the hell couldn't Jake have helped me come up with a lie before shoving me out to face the wrath of Alice Brandon? "Well," I raise one finger as if asking her to hold on a second, probably making it completely obvious that I'm searching for a lie, so I wave it around to point back at the bathrooms, "There was a long line."

Even I know this lie is a total fail.

"We just checked the bathrooms. There was no one there." Alice raises her eyebrow at me, daring me to contradict her.

"You're kidding!" I feign surprise, and let me tell you, my acting skills are about as good as my lying skills. "Well, that's…weird. There was a line when I went."

They look back at each other, sharing a quizzical glance as I ready myself for them to bombard me with questions - questions I don't have the answers to.

"All right," Angela says slowly, dragging out the vowels.

"Anyway," Alice interjects, bouncing up on her toes. "Ben, Mike and Tyler came back from surfing and joined Edward and the La Push boys in football. It's hilarious watching them play! We didn't want you to miss it."

I blink.

I'm stunned by Alice's abrupt change of subject and even more so at her lack of interest into where I've been these past twenty minutes.

Angela loops her arm through mine, leading me back to the beach. "They said they need us 'cheerleaders' to cheer them on. Bella, you wouldn't believe how bad they're getting their asses kicked. It's a good thing Forks doesn't rival with the La Push School, or we'd be so screwed."

As they both laugh, I force a smile, surreptitiously glancing back over my shoulder to the line of trees.

-~~BoM~~-

Angela and Alice are right; our boys are getting their asses handed to them in the game of football. What's worse is we should have the advantage since there's four of our boys and only three of theirs.

The girls begin shouting all at once for Mike, cheering him on. I can only assume it's because he has the ball, but I don't know for sure since I can't bring myself to watch.

Since we sat down, I've found myself acting on cues from the girls, laughing when they laugh, cheering when they cheer, throwing in the appropriate remarks when necessary, and not paying the slightest bit of attention to the game going on in front of me. I _can't_, not when I have a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts to sort through.

I'm actually jealous of my friends, envious that they're able to relax and have fun without a care in the world. It's times like this that I almost find myself resenting Jacob. I know if I hadn't made the bet with him - if things were normal - then I'd be laying back, basking in the sun, and laughing with my friends, or even cheering Edward on while he plays with this group of - should be – total strangers. But instead, I sit here, lost and alone in my dismal thoughts.

Digging my fingers into the sand, I scoop up the billions of tiny granules, watching as they slip through the cracks of my fist. It's a distraction I need; it keeps my eyes from drifting to Edward or scanning the beach for Jake - who still hasn't come back since he shoved me out of the trees.

Whether that's a good thing or a bad thing… well, I just don't know.

He already takes up my every thought, in one way or another, regardless of whether or not I want him to; I'm consumed by him – addicted to him.

Even though I know sneaking around with Jake is wrong, and I'm usually spending the time trying to deflect his advances, he somehow has a way of making me forget why it's wrong. Just his physical presence alone can sway my conscience into looking the other way. But all it takes is one look at Edward, carefree and laughing, to remind me.

I feel like the worst person alive. I can't even begin to describe the amount of guilt that's eating me away at this moment.

I kissed Edward before I left, and not just a simple peck, but a passionate display that had all of my friends and even Jake questioning our intimacy. Then, like the kissing slut I am, I make out with Jacob only a few minutes later!

I swore to myself that I wouldn't kiss him again! Yet the very next time I see him, I fall into his face…repeatedly.

What the hell is wrong with me? Haven't I been taught since the age of five to _just say no_?

In my own defense, that first kiss was stolen from me, and I _did_ slap him for it. But that was when everything turned into a jumbled mess! He got all defensive and scary and then sweet and playful. Then somehow I got conned into a new condition and agreeing that I should date around! Date _him,_ to be precise!

I have to take a deliberate deep breath to keep my head from spinning.

The girls shout next to me again, jarring me out of my thoughts and back into the present. I don a faulty smile while Angela and Jessica cheer for their boyfriends and Alice hollers for Tyler. Lauren, much to my chagrin, has taken it upon herself to root for Edward. Whenever she shouts his name, I feel a small pang of unease.

Morally, I know I need to do something about Edward; to continue a relationship like this just isn't _right_. I'm not naïve enough to say I won't kiss Jake again. The rude voice inside my head laughs, _Yeah, we all know how well that plan worked out last time!_

Roughly, I rub my brow with my fist as if it will rid me of the rogue voice and its snarky quips.

Perhaps Jake's right; I'm young and in high school. I should be able to date around. Maybe I could ask Edward for an open relationship? Then I could see Jake with a clear conscience.

Though that means Edward would be free to see other girls as well… My gaze cuts straight across to Lauren. Could I handle him dating someone else?

I watch her a moment; she smiles brightly and flirtatiously, clapping her hands as she hoots and hollers for Edward. It's no secret she has a thing for him. The second she hears he's on the market, I can guarantee she'll be knocking on his front door. Hell, she practically throws herself at him now! I can only imagine how she'll behave when he's free to date.

The thought makes me nauseous and angry.

Irrational flames of jealousy lick up to my reddened face, and I shoot her a warning look. "You know there are four other _single_ guys out there that you could be rooting for."

"What? I can't yell for Edward just because he's your boyfriend?" Lauren snaps while giving me the bitch brow.

"Lauren," Angela chides.

"She hasn't yelled for him once! And someone should." Lauren flips her hair, turning her attention back to the game and defiantly shouting for Edward once more.

My anger quickly dissipates as the rude voice inside my head snarls, _You have no right to be so possessive. You're the one cheating on him! Remember?_

I visibly flinch at my own harsh words.

"Bella?" Alice touches my forearm, her perfectly shaped eyebrows scrunched in concern. "Are you okay?"

I battle with a tight smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm fine."

She cocks her head, studying me a moment; feeling self-conscious, I have to fight to keep my face neutral.

"You know you can tell me if you and Edward are…" she leans toward my ear, lowering her voice, "sleeping together."

"No, Alice, I told you; we're not."

She holds her hands up in defense. "All right, I believe you. It's just that with the way you've been acting today it would make sense. I mean, first with that kiss and the way you ran off when I asked the first time, and just now with Lauren. Something's going on with you, and if it's not that…" She lets her words hang in the air, willing me to fill in the blank.

It should come as no surprise that Alice noticed my erratic behavior. She is, after all, the nosiest person alive as well as my best friend. Summing up as much courage as I can, I decide to tell what little truth I can. "No, we haven't slept together yet. But it's been on my mind a lot lately." _Because_ _of_ _Jake_, I mentally tack on. Sex is the premise of the whole bet. Obviously I've thought about it, but it's not really the issue at hand. I need to know what to do about Edward.

Alice's small fingers squeeze my arm. "Don't over think it, Bella. Just do what feels right. Okay?" She smiles her brightest and wraps her arm around my shoulders, pulling me toward her. I rest my head on her shoulder while her cheek presses to my hair. "But _only_ if it feels right," she firmly adds.

Biting my lip, I close my eyes and think about Alice's words. Do they apply to my current dilemma?

I know breaking up with Edward is the right thing to do, but does it feel right? Could I give him up? Lose him to someone else?

My initial jealous reaction to Lauren cheering for him, my insistence that Jake keep us a secret, and the extents that I've gone through to keep Edward from finding out about my infidelity tells me that I _can't_. I don't want to lose him. The thought makes my heart constrict and my stomach twist. Is that because I love him, or because I'm afraid to hurt him?

I care for him a great deal…_but do I love him_?

What about Jake? Despite how hard I've tried not to, I have feelings for him too. The problem is how do I know if he feels anything for me? At least with Edward I know that he loves me. With Jake it's not that simple.

How do I know everything Jake says isn't just another ploy to get into my pants? He's proven himself to be manipulative and a liar. I know that falling in love with him would only make the stakes higher: my heart versus his bike.

Which would he ultimately choose?

If I knew that he wanted to go out with me tonight because he actually _liked_ me and not because of this stupid bet, then it would change _everything_. I wouldn't hold back; I'd willingly explore my feelings for him without fear. I'd risk my relationship with Edward if it meant starting one with Jake.

As it is, I can't trust him, and I refuse to lose Edward over this bet while Jake lies and manipulates me into loving him, then at the end of three months drops me like he has every other girl. I wish I could ask him his feelings for me; I wish I could believe him when he tells me he has them. But I just _can't_.

I can't risk losing Edward just to have Jake leave me in the end.

God, even _I_ know how incredibly selfish that sounds.

The shuffling of feet and the gruff male voices come closer, causing me to look up.

"Is this half time or a break to lick your wounds?" Angela taunts Ben.

"Ha ha, very funny," Ben deadpans, but a smile breaks as he lunges toward her, tickling her and knocking her on her back in a fit of giggles.

I look wistfully at the two of them and wish my relationship could be so simple and easy, like it was a week ago. My gaze slowly turns to Edward as he comes to a stop next to me; one hand drops to my shoulder, gently squeezing in hello. Embry, Quil and Seth flank behind him while Mike and Tyler stand closer to Lauren and Jessica.

Edward bends down to open his cooler next to me, taking out two plastic bottles. "Water?" he asks, offering the bottles to the boys behind him. "We have plenty."

Embry takes the offered beverage while Lauren pipes up, "I have a twelve pack of beer if you'd rather have it."

Quil grins, walking toward her as she scrambles to get into her small, red cooler. Seth readily steps in her direction but is stopped by the back of Embry's arm as he shoves the water bottle into Seth's chest. "I don't think so, kid."

Seth turns a pleading eye to Embry, whining, "Aw, come on. Jake would let me."

"No, I wouldn't." Jake's husky voice startles us all. Seth and Embry look over their shoulders toward his voice. From my seated position in front of them, I can't see Jake as he walks up, which is probably just as well. The added few seconds gives me time to mask my expression and face him with (what I hope to be) cool indifference.

Slowly, I stand up beside Edward. He places his hand on my elbow to help me rise, causing me to wince in pain as he touches the bruise. Fully erect, I watch, heart pounding, as Jake emerges from behind them and sidles up next to Seth. His piercing black eyes immediately meet and hold mine. I try not to gasp at the intensity of his stare. Setting my jaw, I fight to contain my emotions from showing.

Jake's signature smirk slowly spreads, his eyes holding an amused glint, and I know he's replaying our time behind the bathrooms in his memory. My cheeks start to flush as I realize we've been staring at each other for way too long. Apparently I'm not the only one who's noticed as Edward's grip on my bruised elbow tightens, pulling me into his side. I flinch but bite my tongue as he lets go quickly, sliding his arm around my waist. Jake, however, has replaced his smirk with anger, and his hands clench into fists at his sides.

For a moment, I stand terror stricken. Jake looks like he's about to lash out at Edward for inadvertently hurting me. Thank God for Embry; he comes to my rescue with, "Hey, Ja-"

Or, at least, he _tried_ to come to my rescue. A loud, screeching "Ja-ake!" interrupts from behind him. Within seconds, the voluptuous redhead hurls herself at Jacob and latches on tightly to his bicep.

Jake's murderous eyes detach from Edward's face long enough to look incredulously at the redhead dangling on his arm.

"Jake," she coos, pressing one long, blood-red fingernail to his chest, "I've been looking all over for you."

"Why's that?" he coldly responds. If she notices the icy tone, she doesn't show it as she drags her nails over his tattoo, zigzagging down to his bulging abs.

_Could you please peel those talons away from _my_ Jake before I do it for you?_

Holy crap! Where did that come from?

"Well," she presses her D-cups into his arm, and for a minute, I'm sure they're going to fall out of her too-small top, "I just found out Daddy has been called to Seattle for a business meeting, which means I get the house all to myself tonight." Her tone switches from seductive cooing to pouting. "It's an awfully big house, and I do hate staying there alone." She bites her lip, attempting to look innocent while her contradicting nails run along the hemline of his shorts. "Maybe you could sleep over? Keep me company?"

"Wow, some girls have no class," Lauren admonishes loudly.

Several snorts and snickers erupt, including my own, though the redhead does not look impressed. She whips her head around, sending a death glare to Lauren, ready to spit back.

"Sorry, Red," Quil interjects before a cat fight can ensue, "Jake's working the late shift with us tonight."

The redhead shrugs, salaciously smiling at Jake. "You can come over now."

Jake's eyes jump from Quil to the redhead and back again.

"Late shift?" He snaps the question, his irritability palpable. I'm hoping it's due to the redhead still clinging to his arm, though I doubt it since he's made no move to shake her off. I'd be lying if I said I'm not contemplating her murder right now.

"Shit, Jake, didn't Paul tell you?" Quil asks in a way that sounds like he already knew the answer. He looks defiantly to Embry.

Jake's dark gaze follows, directing his next question at Embry. "Paul's running it? He said he stopped."

"Yeah," Embry sighs, shooting a quick, accusatory glare at Quil. "He knows you don't want him to, but he says you guys need the extra money...for Claire." It's like Embry knew the effect that mentioning Claire would have on Jake as his eyes soften at the sound of her name. _Who the hell is this Claire?_

Jake's ebony eyes quickly harden again as they look at me, zeroing in on Edward's hand on my waist. With a shake of his head, he turns to Embry.

"I'm gonna beat Paul's ass. This is fucking bullshit." His words sound more hurt than angry.

He spins around furiously, finally knocking the redhead off his arm, and stalks away. She flitters and shrieks, running after him.

My heart lurches in my chest, and I start to take a step forward. I want to run after him too. Better than that, I want to knock the redhead bitch to the ground _then_ run after him.

As if Edward can sense the direction of my thoughts, or maybe he noticed the step I took after Jake, he tightens his hold on my waist. His free hand grips my arm, silently holding me back.

"We should probably get going," Embry says, rubbing his neck. "Maybe we can finish the game some other time."

"Sure, no problem," Edward replies.

"It's probably just as well," Ben adds good-naturedly, "I don't think we could've come back during the second half anyway."

Seth laughs, swiveling the ball in his hands. "Yeah, what was the score again? Thirty-three to seven?"

"Right." Embry claps his hands together, taking a step back; he seems to be in a hurry - I hope to go check on Jake. "We'll see you guys around then?" Embry's eyes scan over everyone but stop on me. "Sweetheart, you got a nice guy here," he nods to Edward, "Call me when you get bored of him."

On that note, he winks, grabs Seth by the shoulder, and walks away, leaving Edward and I slack-jawed.

"See ya' later, Lauren," Quil laughs, jumping up to go after them.

Edward slowly takes a seat on my towel, tugging my hand so I'll follow and sit cross-legged in front of him.

Mike relaxes back next to Jessica. "Thank God, they left. It was hard enough to lose the first half of the game."

"Yeah, what was that about?" Alice asks. "I thought you guys were supposed to be our star football players."

"We lost on purpose," Tyler shrugs.

"Oh, you did not!" Jessica exclaims disbelievingly, swatting at Tyler.

"Are you kidding?" Mike interjects, "Those guys are _gangbangers_! We're not gonna risk pissing them off for any reason."

"Come on, they seem harmless," Angela reprimands.

"Maybe, but who can be so sure?" Tyler points out. "We're not going to risk our asses by getting on their bad side."

"No shit," Mike says. "I don't know who Paul is, but I'd hate to be around when Jake finds him."

"He won't hurt him." The words are out before I even realize it. My eyes widen, and I look down at my lap quickly before anyone can notice my reddened cheeks.

The boys let out disbelieving laughs while Edward places his hand over mine.

"I hate to break it to you, Bella, but Jake will probably kill the poor bastard," Mike states.

"And his friends will help dispose of the body," Tyler states, like it's entirely possible.

I want to retort; I want to tell them all that Jake wouldn't hurt Paul because they're brothers, but that's a sure-fire way of incriminating myself.  
Ben pipes up, "Did you hear the way they were talking about the 'late shift?' It's what?" He checks his watch. "Three o'clock now? Wouldn't this be the late shift? Most body shops close around five or six."

"There's something odd about that business," Edward admits, nodding his head. I give him an astonished look. He told Embry he thought the business was _trustworthy_ earlier! He simply shrugs at my expression.

"That place was raided by the police for a reason," Ben says.

"Most likely drug related. They probably deal out of their shop," Mike concludes.

His statement gives me pause. _Could that be true?_ I did see Paul hand Jake a wad full of money at the garage last night, and their conversation about the late shift _was_ odd.

Biting my lip, I wonder.

-~~BoM~~-

The rest of my evening is surprisingly uneventful. After the beach, we all changed out of our suits, went to dinner and a movie, and then spent the rest of the night in Mike's basement-converted-game room. Edward and I were the first to leave, though Alice decided to stay the night with Angela and begged me to join them. I had to decline, coming up with some horrible, sputtering excuse of a lie to get out of it.

I have to be back by midnight, not only because Charlie will be waiting up for me, but because Jake will be coming to get me five minutes later.

I still haven't figured out how this will work out. How does he think I'm going to leave? Does he think that I can just walk in the door and say, "Hey, Dad, I know it's my curfew and all, but I kind of told Jake I'd go out with him in five. So…I'm gonna go. Don't wait up; I don't know where we'll be or what we'll be doing. I'm not even sure if it's anything legal. You see, my friends think he's dangerous and possibly a drug dealer. I know; crazy, right?"

Yeah, I just don't think Charlie will go for that.

My dad's pretty serious about things like curfew. He's the Chief of Police; of course he's going to be strict. Even if I sneak out, which seems to be the only option, Jake's only giving me five minutes. _Five minutes_! That's a seriously short amount of time to try and escape the home of Charlie Swan.

Now, I've never snuck out of my house before, so I'm no expert, but shouldn't I at least wait for Charlie to fall asleep before I go waltzing out the front door?

Though as much as I've been worrying over the 'how to' part of the plan, I'm wondering if there is even be a need. There's a chance that Jake won't even show up. Quil told the redhead that he's working the 'late shift' tonight, which he didn't seem to know anything about. If he couldn't go out with her, well then, maybe he won't be able to go out with me either.

I hate how that thought leaves me feeling disappointed.

As Edward and I drive home, he reaches over the consol, placing his hand over mine while flashing me his sweet, crooked smile.

At nearly half past eleven, I suggested to Edward that we head home, even though the drive would only take about ten minutes. I think he got the impression that I wanted to spend the last half hour alone with him, but really, I just wanted to get home early to lessen the chance of Edward and Jake crossing paths. I mean, Jake's only giving me a five minute time lapse; what if he's early? What if Edward and I are late? The last thing I need is for Edward to pull up to my house and see Jake parked in my driveway waiting for me.

As Edward's Volvo turns around the corner of my street, my heart rate picks up. It may still be twenty-five minutes until Jake is due, but that doesn't stop the butterflies from forming with nervous anticipation.

Our porch light is the only one on the block still lit, illuminating the empty driveway. Edward stops the car in front of my house, killing the engine and shutting off the headlights. He lets the radio continue to play.

My right hand immediately finds the door handle, ready to bolt from the car as I turn to face him. "Well, thanks for-" My words are cut off by Edward's mouth on mine. I'm surprised, so my eyes stay open and my lips immobile. It's not until his hand cups my cheek that I begin to kiss back, though my eyes stay open a moment longer before finally relenting and closing.

Edward moans into my mouth as his hands find and grip my waist. I try to reciprocate his passion, but it doesn't feel right. The guilt, shame and remorse weigh on my chest, compressing my lungs and making it difficult to breathe, let alone kiss him.

I don't know if he takes my shallow breathing as a sign of enthusiasm, but he allows one hand to trail down to my bare knee. Every sensory receptor in my brain is now focused on that one hand, feeling the heat of it practically burning my skin. Edward slowly allows it to move up my thigh, nearing the hem of my dress, which is hiked up a little higher than I'm currently comfortable with.

He continues to kiss me; his lips remove themselves from mine long enough to make a trail down my jaw to my throat as his treacherous hand rides higher, finally slipping beneath the fabric of my dress.

My body goes rigid, though he continues to kiss me as if he hasn't noticed. His fingers brush over my upper thigh, too close, _way_ too close to my underwear.

I slap a hand down on top of his, stopping him in his tracks. Slowly, he slides his hand back down to my knee, still kissing my throat as if he hasn't done anything wrong.

I could get angry, I could snap at him for trying to go too far, but instead, I choose to let it go. His small infraction is nothing compared to the list of wrongs I've done to him today.

Pulling away from him, I look into his flushed face; his radiant green eyes stare devotedly back at me. The guilt eats away at me a little more.

"I need to go inside. Charlie's probably standing at the window watching us right now." It's a lie. Charlie never waits for me by the door. He'll be sitting in his recliner watching television while waiting for the clock to read midnight.

"All right," he breathes, kissing me sweetly once more. "Want me to come over tomorrow? I could bring you lunch."

"No, I have a research paper to write," another lie, "It'll probably take me most of the day. I'll call you when I'm done though, okay?" The truth is that I want a day alone, where I can think uninterrupted. I just want the simplicity of my room so I can sort through this mess that my life has become without the worry of someone finding out my dirty little secrets.

"Okay. Goodnight, Bella."

"Goodnight."

Grabbing my beach bag from the floorboard in front of me, I twist and maneuver myself out of the car. Edward speaks again, halting my movements. "I love you."

Awkwardly smiling at him, I stupidly reply, "I know."

My heart breaks a little more seeing the hurt expression on his face. Mentally, I tell him what I can't say aloud. _You shouldn't love me. You shouldn't love me because I'm a horrible person. I cheated on you and selfishly refuse to ever tell you the truth. _

I'm _so_ going to hell.

With half a wave back at Edward, I enter my house, walking straight into the living room to find Charlie exactly where I thought he would be: in his recliner, watching TV.

He glances at me, long enough to check me over, before returning his attention back to his show. "Hey, Bells, how was your night?"

"Fine," I reply, shifting my bag from one shoulder to the other. "I think I'm going to go to bed now though," I fake a yawn, "I'm really tired."

Charlie sighs, rubbing his hands on the armrest of his chair. "Yeah, me too." He flips off the television as he stands. "You locked the front door behind you, right?"

"Yep," I nod, already walking toward the stairs.

"Head on up; I'll set the alarm." It's a good thing I have my hand on the banister as his words cause me to stumble.

_Oh shit_, how did I forget the alarm?

Taking a deep breath, I hike the rest of the way up the stairs, pondering how I'm going to get around this newest obstacle.

If I plan on sneaking out of this house at all, the first thing I have to do is disarm the alarm system; no door or window can be opened while it's on. It won't be easy; the downstairs hallways are full of motion detectors. If I remember correctly, I'll only have one minute to reach the touchpad before the alarm sounds.

Swinging my bedroom door closed behind me, I drop my beach bag to the floor. I toss my cell phone onto the foot of the bed and check the time. I only have about ten minutes left until Jake's supposed to come pick me up; that is, if he's really coming.

After what seems like an eternity, I hear Charlie walking up the stairs. I wait, listening to his footfalls and, finally, the click of his bedroom door closing across the hall from mine.

Leaving on only the bedside lamp, I carefully step out into the hall and sneak into the bathroom, quickly reapplying my make up and brushing my hair out of its ponytail. I fluff and spray my curls until they look presentable then promptly slip back into my bedroom.

Stepping up to the closet, I switch my sandals for a pair of ballet flats and inspect my reflection in the full length mirror. For the first time today, I'm actually glad Alice and Charlie made me change into my light blue and white floral sundress. Not only did it save me time getting ready, but I feel pretty in it. It's the perfect dress for my first night out with Jake.

I check the time - midnight exactly. _Five more minutes._

Walking to my window, I scan the darkened streets for any sign that Jake's out there but find none.

All I have left to do is wait on Jake, disengage the alarm, and sneak out the front. Shouldn't be too hard… oh hell, who am I trying to convince? It'll be a miracle if I don't trip down the stairs, wake up Charlie, and set off the alarm all at once!

As I stare out my window, searching and waiting for Jake, the minutes slowly tick by…five…ten…fifteen pass, and I begin to lose hope. Pacing the length of my queen-size bed, I bite at my nail and stare at my phone. For the first time _ever_, I wish I had his phone number. But he has mine; surely if he couldn't make it, he'd call…right?

After another ten minutes of staring out the window, I give up hope completely. _He's not coming._

Dejectedly, I shuffle around the room, kicking off my shoes and tossing a sleep shirt onto the bed. I slide down my side zipper, and the dress loosens enough for me to shrug the straps off of my shoulders, letting the garment pool around my feet.

"When I said be ready for me, I didn't know that this is what you had planned. Not that I mind."

I spastically jump, clutching my chest, and immediately bring my other hand to cover my mouth as I twist around to see Jake slipping in through my window. One black boot touches the floor, followed by the second, and he's finally able to stand tall in front of the glass. He's wearing black jeans, a white t-shirt, and a black leather jacket while brandishing a silver-steel pocket knife. The sight of him is a little scary…and okay, a little sexy too.

His eyes cast down, slowly roaming the length of my body as he bites his lip. Call it morbid curiosity, but I look too, wondering just how much of me he can see. My hand is still clutched over my heart, but it's not hiding anything. The lacy, white convertible bra is on full display. In fact, I'm probably accentuating it with my hand laying over one boob. And of course, there's nothing, _nothing_ hiding my light-pink panties. I know he saw me in a bikini today and that reveals more than my underwear, but somehow, this feels more intimate. Heat rushes to my face as I clumsily reach for the dress at my feet, pulling it back up as quickly as possible.

"Hmm." Jake suddenly places his hands over mine, halting my movement. The pocket knife is pointed away, but I can feel the cold hilt touching my hand. "I think this dress looked better where it was."

"Shame it won't be staying there," I quip.

"Are you sure?" He hovers over me, pressing his body against mine while his fingers cascade down my side.

"Positive," I say; though really, I'm not. I'm super uncomfortable being exposed like this, sure, but when he's this close to me… well, like I've said before, his presence tends to make my mind go fuzzy.

Jake sighs, "Okay, Princess." Gently, he tugs the straps of the dress up my arms to my shoulders, allowing his fingers to ghost my skin along the way. He huffs a sardonic laugh. "This is the first time I've ever helped a girl _into_ her clothes."

The question comes unbidden to my mind, _How many girls has he helped _out_ of their clothes? _

I begin to tug the zipper up on the side, but he swats me away. His free hand zips while the other deftly closes the pocket knife. As he's slipping it into his front pocket, I can't help but ask, "Um, why the knife?"

"I used it to get in the window."

"Oh my God," I gasp, "the alarm! Did it go off?" I don't hear it, but that doesn't mean it's not sounding downstairs, and don't the systems automatically call the police?

Jake laughs at me.

"It's not funny! My dad's Chief of Police if you hadn't noticed! He's kind of strict on the whole law-abiding thing. A boy setting off the alarm by climbing into my room so we can sneak out - and go God knows where - kind of goes against everything he stands for!"

Jacob hovers over me, his wolfish smile spreading wickedly. "Where is Daddy, by the way? Is he home?"

I try to push him back out the window, but he won't budge. "Jake, if he finds you in here-"

"What? How would Daddy react to finding me in your room?" He smiles like it's the best thought in the world, almost as if he _wants_ Charlie to find him in here. He looks past me to the bedroom door. "Kind of exciting, isn't it? Knowing you could get caught but doing it anyway."

"_Jake_," I plead.

The sinful glint in his eyes fades as he looks back at me. "You worry too much, Princess." He ruefully shakes his head. "I didn't trip the alarm. I cut the wires before I opened the window."

"You can do that?" is my brilliant reply.

Jake steps away, ignoring the question, and his ebony eyes scrutinize my room as his long legs circle the open space. He stops at my dresser, picking up a framed picture of Edward and me at the Valentine's dance last year. He rolls his eyes and puts it back face down, then he looks from the clock on the dresser to the one on my bedside table across the room. "Why do you have two alarm clocks?"

"I have five actually," I answer. "I'm not exactly a morning person."

He scoffs, "Neither am I. But, like a normal person, I only use one alarm clock."

I shrug, but looking at the time reminds me, "You were so late that I thought you weren't coming. That's why I was… um, changing." My cheeks burn again just thinking about how he walked in on my state of undress.

Of course, he smirks at me, "You really think I'd bail on our date?" He smiles wider as he saunters back toward me. "After I worked so hard to get you to go out with me?"

When he puts it that way, I feel sort of silly. "I thought you couldn't come because Quil said you had to work tonight."

I'm frozen in place as he finally reaches me, standing so close that we're almost touching. His eyes lock on mine as he trails his fingers down my cheek. "Don't worry about that. _Nothing_ could've kept me from coming here tonight."

He bends down, taking my lips in his for the briefest kiss we've shared yet. I want it to last longer, and I'm tempted to pull him back down to me again. As if he can read my mind (or maybe he just read the expression on my face), he grins and steps away, purposefully denying me.

Jake plops himself on my bed, comfortably lying back and folding his hands behind his neck.

I stand awkwardly at the foot of my bed, and I know I must be looking at him strangely, but I'm a little confused. "Um, weren't we planning on doing something?"

"Yeah Princess, I plan on doing _you_," he smirks.

"Okay, I walked right into that one."

"You won't be walking at all when I'm done with you." The cold night air blows in through the window, eliciting goose bumps on my arms and causing me to shiver. Jake continues, "You want me; I know you do, but you deny yourself the pleasure." The wicked gleam returns in his eyes as he bites his bottom lip. "Or do you?"

"What?" I ask.

"Do you pleasure yourself, Princess? Do you think of me while you lay here at night… naked… moaning my name to get yourself off?"

Impulsively, I nearly shout at him, "Ew, no!" Is he serious? Viciously shaking my head, I continue, "I don't… do that! No."

Jake's brows scrunch together as he sits up and throws his long legs off the side of the bed in one fluid motion. "Are you trying to tell me that you've never-"

"No, I've never. I wouldn't even know how to— Just, no." It's true I've never… touched myself like that before. It just doesn't seem _right_.

His eyebrows rise as he stands, staring at me incredulously. "You don't know _how_?"

"No, I know _how_. I've just never…" My cheeks flare in mortification as I drop my face into my hands, violently shaking my head. I don't think I could get any more embarrassed. Two warm hands engulf my wrists, tugging them away from my burning face.

"You've never done it," he finishes for me, "and you've never let Doucheward try either, I bet."

"No," I whisper, staring at his chest and feeling as though I've been laid open for him.

He makes a small hmph noise. "You know what? I like this better." Sheepishly, I raise my head to look him in the eye. "You'll experience your first orgasm at _my_ hands… your second on my tongue." He winks, drops my wrists, and stalks toward the open window, leaving me standing with my mouth agape.

"Better grab a jacket; it's getting colder."

I'm still too surprised to do much more than listen. Grabbing a cardigan out of my closet, I meet him at the window.

"Got your keys?" he asks, eyeing me up and down as though he's assessing me.

I pick my purse up off the desk and shrug it onto my shoulder. "Yeah, why?"

"I'm driving," he answers.

"My car?"

"Yeah, Princess." He crawls out the window and onto the roof's ledge. Biting my lip, I look around my safe and quiet room. If I'm going to back out, now would be the time to do it.

Jake offers me his hand through the open window; I hesitate only for a second before taking it in my own. Tonight will definitely be an adventure.

* * *

_**A/N:** _I know it took forever and a day to get this update out to you but I just couldn't stop until it was perfect. I also took some time out post a one shot with our favorite Bet on Me characters, Jake and Bella called Naughty Girl. If you haven't read it and would like to it's posted on my profile.

As for this chapter, I'd love to hear what you think! It seems Bella realizes that she's fighting her growing feelings for Jake, but how do you think he feels? Would you be able trust him if you were Bella? We know Jake can be quite the little rascal...

As for the rest of the La Push boys…well, I'll let you tell me what you think!

*Hugs*

Huge thanks go out to my favorite ladies, Jkane180 for her brilliant betaing skills and Wordslinger for prereading. If it weren't for these two and their unwavering support, I may never have gotten this chapter completed! I love you girls!


	9. Chapter 9

"A party?" I ask, not bothering to conceal my surprise. "You brought me to a party?"

The line of cars starts a block back, parked nearly bumper to bumper on the shoulder of this old country road, all leading to a lone house at the end. Jake drives the Mustang past all of them, heading straight to the house.

"That okay with you, _Princess_?" His mocking tone doesn't go unnoticed.

"Fine," I respond, half shaking my head and half shrugging.

With the street full of cars, it seems someone had the bright idea of turning the front yard into a make-shift parking lot. Though, they didn't do a very good job of it; the vehicles are all turned this way and that, some completely blocked in by others. Jake pulls off the road and onto the grass, adding my car to the array of madness.

_Does anyone here know how to drive?_

"What'd you expect?" Jake shifts the car into park and shuts off the engine. He props his left elbow on the steering wheel as he twists to look at me. "Dinner and a movie at one a.m.? Maybe a nice moonlit stroll on the beach?" He cocks one eyebrow.

"No," I answer, shaking my head. I really didn't know what to expect.

"Good, 'cause I don't do shit like that," he says firmly, stressing the point. "I would've come here tonight whether you were with me or not."

_Don't I feel special?_ my rude inner voice jibes.

Jake pops open the door and gets out quickly. Stuffing my purse under the seat, I hurriedly follow. My shoe kicks a beer can as I stumble around to meet Jake at the front of the car. The headlights flash as Jake hits the lock button, and for a second, the yard is illuminated, showing me just how dirty it is. I was too distracted with the cars to notice, but now, I see there's trash everywhere: beer cans, bottles, plastic bags, cardboard boxes and more.

Taking a few steps closer to Jake, I accidentally step on the previous beer can again, or maybe it's a different one; honestly, I had no way to tell. The aluminum crunches beneath my ballet flat, and I quickly lift my foot, trying to avoid it and nearly falling in the process. Jake looks down at the noise then back up at me; with a slight shake of his head and a light laugh, he offers his hand. I take it eagerly in mine, searching for some form of comfort as we weave through the cars and head towards the party. Carefully avoiding the scatterings of trash throughout the yard as we go, I find myself becoming more and more anxious. I've never been to this kind of party before. I mean, sure, I've hung out with my group of friends while they've hidden away in Mike's basement, drinking beer and playing silly games like Truth or Dare. But I've never experienced a real party like this one.

At first I thought I could hear the music pumping and the crowd of voices through the open windows, but upon closer inspection, I see that the windows aren't open at all; they're broken. Huge cracks run down them, and in some places, there are large, gaping holes. Then I notice the siding of the house has huge gashes in it, some pieces broken off completely and the stone wall left bare. The condition of the house makes me feel a whole new set of nerves.

Instinctively, I lean into Jake's side. "Whose house is this?"

"I don't know," he shrugs, and I stop out of surprise.

"Jake!" I tug on his hand and lower my voice to harsh whisper, afraid of being overheard. "You don't know? Are we _crashing_ this party?"

He laughs at my concern of course-not that I would have expected anything less of him. But then he wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest. My cheek lies against the soft leather of his jacket while his lips brush the top of my head. It feels so good to just be held closer by him that I momentarily forget why I was so worried in the first place.

"Jared knows someone who lives here," he answers.

"Oh, so Jared's here?" For some weird reason this makes me feel better; at least there's someone else here that I know. Well, sort of know.

Jake starts walking again, keeping me tucked under his arm, and I'm not about to complain. "Yeah, all the guys are."

I let out a small sigh of relief. All the guys means Embry too, and next to Jake, he's the one I'm most comfortable with.

However, once we reach the entrance of the house, my nerves assault me yet again. Several people stand around outside of the front door, swaying and shouting at each other, each with a cigarette between their fingers and cup in their hands. They're all clearly drunk and arguing; every other word they use is a curse.

Not really meaning to, I reach up and grasp onto Jake's hand that lies on my shoulder, holding onto it tightly and making sure it doesn't let me go. He leads me straight past them and through the open door.

I'm instantly assaulted with the undeniable sent of weed, which only heightens my fear and anxiety. Taking in my surroundings, I first notice the mass of teenagers all scattered around the smoky room, and it's nearly as dirty as the front lawn with trash laid out on every available surface.

One worn couch is shoved up against the wall with about seven or eight teens strewn about on it. In front of it sits a ping pong table, taking up most the space in that section of the room. It's heavily surrounded by kids, all screaming and yelling while playing beer pong.

Then there's a card table set up in the opposite corner with a small television sitting on it and a large stereo playing loudly, its speakers taking up the rest of the space.

The other half of the room is nearly bare. It has a keg sitting in a kiddy pool of ice and a futon; my eyes widen when I see it. Two couples are sprawled out on it. One couple is lying down, the guy heavily making out with the girl beneath him and his right hand openly groping at her chest while the left is buried inside of her jeans. The second couple is seated, the girl straddling and grinding against the boy with her skirt hiked up and her shirt off. She's still wearing her bra, but, my lord, they look like they're having _sex_!

Astonished, I point towards them. "Are they…"

"Looks like it," Jake answers my unfinished question.

Furiously blushing, I tear my eyes away from the offending scene and force my curiosity back as it begs me to glance at them again.

With his arm still wrapped securely around my shoulders, Jake steers us through the throngs of teens. I don't know if it's due to his massive size or how dominatingly scary he looks, but either way, the crowd easily parts to make room for him. I feel like I'm floating in the middle of the ocean and he's my raft, carrying me safely through a sea of sharks. Most everyone looks condescendingly down at me, saying without words that I don't belong here, while others view me in a way that I can only describe as "fresh meat."

A moment later, Jake and I are standing in front of the keg. It's being guarded by a twenty-something year old holding a bag of red plastic cups and a jar full of money. Jake drops his arm from my shoulders and attempts to dig into his pockets. I know it's a difficult task for him with my arms still clutching around his middle, so I force myself to let go. I hadn't realized how tightly I was holding onto him until just now as each finger stiffly uncurls itself from his leather jacket.

I watch the silent exchange between Jake and the keg guard in awe. Jake hands over a five dollar bill to the guard, who places it in his jar and then fills a plastic cup of beer in return.

Placing his hand on my lower back, Jake leads me a few feet away and puts the cup in my hand.

"You don't have to drink it if you don't want to, just hang on to it." Jake takes my free hand in his, guiding it so my palm is sitting on the rim of cup. "If you do drink it, make sure you keep your hand over the top at all times. Got me?" His dark eyes bore into mine, alerting me to just how serious he is about this.

I nod knowingly. I may never have been to a party like this before, but I'm certainly aware of the dangers of them.

"Hey, man, you made it!" Quil's large hand claps down on Jake's shoulder, and then he looks to me, his surprise evident. "And you brought the Chief's daughter."

Jake easily slips his arm around my waist and pulls me closer; the beer sloshes around in my cup, splashing at my fingers around the rim.

"You talked to Paul, right?" Quil's eyes shift from me to Jake, and trepidation colors his tone as he adds, "You're coming to the job later?"

I'm silently questioning, _What job? What does he mean 'later'?_ at the same time that I feel Jake stiffen beside me. "No, I thought I'd find him here." His husky voice drops, containing a bitter edge. "I still need to kick his ass."

Wait, he hasn't talked to Paul yet? But I thought that's where he was going when he left the beach? I thought he was late picking me up tonight because he was working the 'late shift,' but if this _job_ is the 'late shift,' then…where was Jake all day?

I look back at Jake, the anger with his brother clearly written on his face, and for a moment, I wonder what he'll do if we find him here. Mike's words on the beach come back to haunt me, _'I don't know who Paul is, but I'd hate to be around when Jake finds him.' _

Crap, _I'm_ going to be around when Jake finds him.

_He won't hurt him, _my inner voice quickly responds. It's the same initial response that I had with Mike earlier. All I can say is I really hope my inner voice is right.

"Hell, Jake, aren't you over that yet?" Quil's nonchalant attitude seems to anger Jake further as his fingers tighten their grip on my waist. "I would've thought you got it out of your system when you-"

"Fuck that," Jake snaps loudly, causing me to jump. "Paul deserves to get his ass beat for not telling me."

Feeling awkward and out of place in their conversation, I bring the cup to my lips; the strong scent of the beer fills my nose as I take a drink. My face automatically puckers in disgust, and I force myself to swallow it down instead of spitting it out like I want to.

"_Ugh,_ that's terrible!" I say, still frowning and staring at the beer like it insulted me. "Why would anyone want to drink this?"

Realizing that I said this aloud, I slap my hand over my mouth. Horrified, I look up at Jake and begin to shake my head apologetically. "Oh, my God, I'm sorry." My words are slightly muffled with my hand still covering my mouth; I remove it quickly. "You bought this for me, and here I am being so rude about it."

Quil openly laughs the whole time I'm trying to apologize while Jake's angered expression over Paul smoothes into an amused one at me. He gives me a crooked grin, his thumb rubs on my lower back, and his free hand moves up to my cheek, brushing my hair back.

"Is that your first beer, Princess?"

I nod, still frowning because the horrible taste lingers in my mouth.

Quil's laughter dies down to a chuckle. "She's cute, Jake. I can see why you like this girl."

My heart rate picks up slightly, and I try to fight the hot blush from hitting my cheeks but fail miserably. However, Jake's amused smile disappears entirely as he drops his hand from my waist.

Sharp pains of rejection shoot through me. Jake's reaction to Quil's words is enough to answer my lingering questions about where we stand. _He doesn't like me; I'm just a bet. _

"Hey, look," Quil smirks and nods to the left of us, "here comes Paul now."

My eyes shift to Paul's rapidly approaching figure, the same scowl etched onto his face that I've seen before. I glance at Jake who wears a nearly identical expression. Quil stays where he stands with a smirk still on his face, as if he's happy to witness the next event, but I nervously take a step back.

"What the fuck is she doing here, Jake?" Paul shouts the second he stops in front of us. I cringe and wish I could fold in on myself, maybe make myself disappear. Jake's arm shoots out in front of me, crossing my stomach with his hand sprawled out on my hip. He pushes me back slightly and takes a small step forward, almost standing chest to chest with his brother. As glad as I am that he's taking a protective stance with me, I'm still too upset about my latest realization that Jake doesn't like me to feel comforted. Add to that Paul's harsh words, and there's no way to stop the tears from forming. _Can you blame me?_

"What fucking difference does it make?" Jake spits.

"I told you to stop with this bullshit." Paul turns his focus on me. "You," he snaps his fingers in front of my face as if I'm not already looking straight at him, "whatever your name is, go home."

"It's Bella," Jake growls, shocking me. He _never_ calls me Bella. "Her name's fucking Bella." Jake exasperatedly sweeps a hand through his hair. "Jesus, Paul."

"And you're doing just that, aren't you?" Paul quips. "_Fucking_ Bella."

"Hell yeah, I'd tap that too," Quil laughs.

Jake shoots him a dangerous look but snaps his attention back to Paul. "I told you, I'm not fucking her."

"You know that's not what I meant. Take the girl home and cut the shit," Paul commands like a father would his son.

"Me?" Jake grunts. "What about you? You fucking hypocrite. I hear you're running a job later?"

Paul threads his fingers through his hair, mimicking his brother from a minute ago. "Fuck, Jake! Watch your goddamn mouth!" If I wasn't so upset, I'd almost find that statement funny. "What does she know?" Paul glares at both boys, demanding an answer.

"Nothing. I'm not fucking stupid," Jake nearly shouts.

"Nah, man," Quil says, "She doesn't know anything."

They don't so much as glance at me, talking about me as if I'm not standing right here.

Hurt and uncomfortable, I take a deep breath and look away. I spot Embry on the other side of the room leaning back against the wall, a red plastic cup in his hand while he laughs with a pretty girl. Almost as if he can feel my eyes on him, he glances up, over her head, and looks straight at me. He winks and smiles, but it quickly fades into concern. His eyes flicker to Jake, Paul, and Quil. Pushing off the wall, he pats the girl on the arm and makes his way over to us. Gratitude washes over me.

Embry keeps his eyes locked on mine until he's standing right in front of me. He gently places his hand on my shoulder and slides it down my bicep. "You okay, Sweetheart?"

Jake's head snaps toward us, his eyes narrowing while I bite my lip and nod at Embry. Jacob's hand encircles my wrist, giving a sharp tug, so I stumble back, my shoulder colliding with his hard chest. Some beer splashes out of the cup, and Embry's grip on my opposite arm tightens, holding me steady before he drops it completely. He takes a step back from me, his hands half raising in surrender.

"What the hell's going on?" Embry addresses the group.

Jake eyes him a moment then answers, "Paul was just about to fill me in on the job details." He stares at his brother, daring him to argue. Which he does.

"No, _you're_ not going," Paul says firmly. "You're taking 'Bella' back where you found her, and then you're going home." I could practically hear the quotes as Paul mockingly said my name, making me sound like some kind of stray that Jake picked up on the street.

"No way, man, Jake's the best! He's gotta come!" Quil quickly cuts in.

Embry looks considerately at me before calmly interrupting, "Come on, guys, let's take this conversation outside."

The brothers ignore him, glaring furiously at each other.

"Either you're calling it off or I'm going with you," Jake defiantly states, crossing his arms. "You _need_ me to watch your back."

"Why are you so hell-bent on going? Unless you told _her_ something you shouldn't!"

I flinch, knowing he's talking about me _again_.

I take another step back, ready to flee. Jake catches my movement and reaches for my hand, but I don't give it willingly, so his fingers just brush over my fist instead. He looks down at me, and through his anger, I can see the apology in his eyes.

Jake turns back to Paul. "I told you, she doesn't know anything, so leave her the fuck out of this!" He still holds onto my fist, as if he's afraid I'll make a run for it if he lets go. Though, as much as I want to run from Paul and his accusations, I don't really want to leave Jake, especially when he's being so apologetic and protective.

Paul's ready to retort, but Embry steps in again, his hand on Paul's chest and anger laced in his voice. "Enough! We're taking this outside _now_!"

Embry pushes Paul back, steering him towards the door as he turns his heated gaze on Jake, saying without words to follow.

Rubbing his thumb over the back of my hand, Jake coaxes my attention to him. "I'll be right back, Princess. All right?" Biting my lip, I contemplate telling him no, it's not all right. I don't want to be left here alone. But instead, I take a steadying breath and nod. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself…maybe.

Quil starts to walk toward Paul and Embry, but Jake grabs his arm, promptly yanking him back next to me. "You're staying here," Jake authoritatively commands, shifting his gaze from Quil to me and back.

"What the fuck, man? I'm on your side!" Quil argues. Jake's eyes narrow, and his features harden. I swear, if looks could kill Quil, would be dead. He quickly submits, "Okay, I'm staying, I'm staying."

Jake spins on his heel, flanking Embry and Paul as the three of them make their way out of the living room.

"Well, isn't this the shits?" Quil mutters, shaking his head.

I'm not really sure how to respond, so I bring the cup back up to my lips, ready to take a sip, but quickly realize what a horrible idea that is and stop. I hold the beer in front of me, wishing I could dispose of it instead. But Jake wants me to have it, even if I'm not drinking it, though I'm not sure why.

An uncomfortable silence forms between Quil and I as the seconds tick by. I've never really talked to him before, but standing next to him, I feel it's the appropriate thing to do, and he _is_ one of Jake's friends. Perhaps I should break the ice?

"Um," _yes, excellent start Bella_, "Are you- I mean, do you not drink?"

"Hmm?" He turns his attention to me sluggishly, as though he hadn't been bothered by the painstakingly obvious silence between us.

I lift my cup up slightly, indicating the alcohol it contains. "You're not drinking?"

"Can't drink too much before a job," he shrugs but looks meaningfully at the little red cup. "But one beer couldn't hurt, could it?" He doesn't wait for me to answer before he nods and begins walking backward. "Yeah, I think I'll get a beer. You don't need anything, do ya'?"

"Uh- um," I try to reply, but he's already turned his back to me, walking away. Irritated, I sigh, blowing the air upwards and fanning my bangs out of my face. I really didn't want him to leave me here alone. Not that Quil was the best company to begin with, but he was better than nothing.

Awkwardly shifting from foot to foot, I stand in the crowded room, my fingers still spread over the rim of the red plastic cup as Jake instructed. Laughter erupts from the couch next to me, and for the first time, I take notice to what its occupants are doing. A group of five is huddled together, lining up rows of white powder on the back of a DVD case, laughing about doing blow on the movie _Blow_.

Feeling incredibly uneasy being so close, I shy away from them. Scurrying back, I weave through the cluster of bodies until I find myself in a quieter, less crowded part of the house. I'm standing in what is meant to be a dining area attached to an open kitchen with only the counter bar separating them. Unfortunately, the only piece of furniture in the room is an old computer desk sitting in the corner, which a few people have already decided to sit on, leaving me little choice but to lean against the wall. _Oh well, at least there aren't couples having sex in here!_

After a few minutes, I close my eyes and let my head fall back against the wall, wondering how long it will be before Jake comes for me.

"Hi," a masculine voice speaks into my ear. Snapping my eyes open and twisting my head, I face an attractive male. He leans one shoulder against the wall next to me, his shaggy auburn hair hanging in front of his gorgeous blue eyes.

Returning his greeting, I shyly whisper, "Hi."

"I saw you from across the room and - I hope you don't mind me saying this - but I thought, 'That girl is too pretty to be so lonely.'" He smiles brightly while a hot blush forces its way into my cheeks. "So, I decided to sum up the courage and offer you my company. That's if you'll have me, of course."

"Oh, um, yeah - sure." I shrug and try to be nonchalant, but honestly, I'm relieved to have someone to talk to. I was beginning to feel a bit like a social pariah.

"My name's Peter," he says conversationally, holding his hand out to me.

I take it gently in mine. "Bella."

"Bella," he repeats as though he's testing it out on his tongue. "Now why would a beautiful girl like you be standing here all alone?"

_ Because the boy who brought me here was dragged outside by a friend so he could fight with his brother about a 'job' he's running later and my lack of knowledge on the subject_. Of course I don't feel it's appropriate to tell Peter this, so I shrug, trying to come up with something else instead.

"I'll tell you why," Peter says seriously. "It's because you're so intimidating."

"Me? Intimidating?" I almost want to laugh at the statement. "I'm probably the least intimidating person ever."

"I said you're beautiful, and I mean that, really." I begin shaking my head, but Peter continues undeterred, "But you see, Bella, that's the problem. You're _too_ beautiful. It's intimidating to most guys."

"But you're here," I point out.

He cracks the slightest grin. "I'm not most guys."

Slightly embarrassed and maybe a little flattered, I take a sip of my drink, instantly wishing I hadn't. My nose scrunches in distaste as I squeeze my eyes shut, and I struggle to swallow.

Peter laughs, "Not good?"

"Awful."

"What'cha drinking?"

"Beer," I answer, but it sounds more like a question.

"Want something better?"

Peter flashes me a friendly smile, but I shake my head. "No thanks."

"C'mon, I've got just the thing. You'll love it, I promise." Peter grasps onto my forearm, barely missing my bruised elbow as he pulls me along behind him. I continue to decline the offer, but he simply ignores me. Rounding the kitchen bar, he finally stops, depositing me so I'm enclosed with my back to the counter. I start to lean back, but it's covered in trash, cups, beer cans, and more, the surface looking wet and sticky. _Ew, best not to lean against that_.

Twisting around, Peter opens the refrigerator door.

"Do you live here?" I'm hoping the answer is yes; otherwise, I'm going to feel awkward about Peter digging around in someone else's fridge. He pauses his movement long enough to give me a sideways glance and a wolfish smile. It's a look that I'm not at all comfortable with.

"Yeah," Peter answers, pulling out a half-empty, blue bottle of liquor. "Would you like to take this to my room?"

"No," I say too harshly, causing Peter's eyebrows to rise. "I mean, that's not what I meant. No, it is. I mean-" _Oh, God_. I drop my face into my free hand and take a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't ask if you lived here because I wanted to go to your room. I'm here with someone, and even if I wasn't, I'm not that kind of girl."

He slowly nods. "I appreciate your honesty. We'll just hang out, all right?"

A pleased smile forms on my face. "Sure."

"Let me pour you a drink, and we'll see how you feel about that after."

_Wait, what_? Okay, something about this guy just went from friendly to creepy. My reluctance must show on my face because Peter laughs.

"I'm just kidding, Bella. Lighten up." But I still don't feel reassured. He tilts the blue bottle at me. "This has got a fruity taste to it-very girly. I know you'll like it better than the beer."

Peter's fingers circle the cup above mine as he attempts to take it away from me.

"No, really, I don't want-" I fight him momentarily; the plastic crinkles a little, and the liquid sloshes around, about to spill out on me. Reluctantly, I let go and watch as Peter tosses it into the sink. I may not have liked Jake's beer, but he gave it to me for a reason. I'm beginning to suspect it was so other guys like Peter wouldn't offer me one. He then pours the blue liquid into my red cup and shoves it back at me.

Placing my hands up in surrender, I shake my head. "No, please… you can have it."

"Don't be ridiculous; I got it for you." Peter's friendly smile never wavers. "C'mon, just try it."

My heart thumps harder in my chest while my subconscious screams, _Peer pressure! _

Maybe my survival instincts have kicked in, or maybe it's just intuition, but something about Peter's persistence raises a little red flag. I _don't_ want to drink this.

Peter grabs one of my hands, forcing it around the cup as he steps closer to me. Automatically, I lean back until I'm pressed against the filthy countertop. Pushing the cup back into his chest, I firmly reiterate, "I don't want it."

Peter sighs, "Just take a drink, and if you hate it, we'll throw it out."

Suddenly Peter is hurled back; the blue liquid splashes out of the cup and onto his shirt. "She said she doesn't want it, asshole."

Jake positions himself in front of me, standing between me and Peter.

"What's your fucking problem, man?" Peter yells, throwing the cup to the ground and dispelling the remaining liquor. His chest puffs out, and he looks like he's ready to fight.

Jacob glares at him in a way that warns not to advance then turns to me. "You okay? What happened?"

"I'm fine; he just wouldn't stop pressuring me to take a drink."

The muscle in Jake's jaw twitches. "Did you?"

"No."

Jake sighs, "What happened to the beer I gave you?"

"He threw it out," I answered honestly.

"She didn't like it," Peter interrupts, causing Jake to face him once more. "I got her something better."

Before I realize what's happening, Jake's fist is flying, connecting with Peter's jaw in an audible punch and dropping him to the ground. My hands automatically cup my mouth and nose as I let out a surprised scream.

"Jake!" I'm yelling I'm so panicked. "You _hit_ him!"

"Yeah," Jake says like I'm the stupid one for pointing it out. Well, maybe I am, but I still can't wrap my head around it.

"_Why_ did you hit him?" I start to crouch down next to Peter on the floor, though I'm not really sure why; maybe to make sure he's all right since he's just starting to pick himself back up, but Jake quickly grips my hand to stop me.

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Still angry and now seeming a little irked at me, he intensely continues, "He tried to date-rape you."

The blood drains from my face as his words hit home. I may have had my suspicions about the drink before, but hearing Jake confirm it makes it all the more real to me. And terrifying.

_Oh God, what if I had taken a drink?_

Jake's frustrated gaze softens as he brings our interwoven fingers to his lips, kissing them softly. "Let's get out of here."

We walk around the kitchen island, about to step into the adjoining dining room when Peter's voice calls out to us, "Is that what it takes to get in your pussy? If I cheap-shot your boyfriend, you gonna fuck me too?"

Jake stiffens, his hand tightening in mine, and I wonder if he's going to turn around, but he chooses to continue walking while I duck my head, embarrassed that Peter's outrage has gained the attention of the dining room occupants-Embry and Quil among them.

"Hey, I'm talking to you!" Peter yells again, but this time he reaches out, grabbing my elbow to forcefully stop me.

"Ow!" I cry out, trying to loosen my bruised arm from his grasp. _What is it with people grabbing my elbow today?_

Jake snaps at the sound of my cry; I swear he's growling as he lets go of my hand and twists around. His fingers wrap themselves around Peter's neck, digging into his skin. Jake seethes, "Let her go."

Peter squeezes my elbow tighter, causing me to suck in a sharp breath before he shoves me back. I stumble and scream at the same time as Peter's now-free hand swings in an uppercut, colliding with Jake's chin.

Then all hell breaks loose.

Punches are flying, people are shouting, and I'm immobile, too terrified to do anything but watch.

Jake's clearly the better fighter of the two as he's dodging most of Peter's shots but landing his own. Suddenly, a third male shoves through the crowd, aiding Peter as he rams into Jake's side. Embry quickly jumps in, his arms wrapping around the unknown male, pulling him off of Jake and joining the fight. Now there are twice as many fists soaring, their bodies all crashing together in attempts to take the other down. It's only a few seconds before Quil jumps in, partly breaking up Embry's fight and partly joining it.

Finally, Jake knocks Peter to the ground, and the unknown male gives up, knowing he's fighting a losing battle. The three La Push boys stare victoriously down at them, breathing heavily.

"Get the fuck out of my house," Peter growls, wiping at his bloodied lip.

"Gladly," Jake sardonically replies. Turning around, he searches the crowd for me, finding me almost instantly. I swallow, still scared, even though the fighting is over, and concerned for Jake. Is he hurt? Is Embry?

Jake hesitantly places his warm hand on my side, as if he thought it might scare me. It doesn't. In fact, I want it. His touch feels comforting and protective. It's what I need after everything that's just transpired.

"Come on, Princess."

Jake starts to lead me away, but then a horrible thought enters my mind, suddenly stopping me. "The bottle."

"What?"

"The blue bottle, the one Peter drugged, it's still in the kitchen. We can't leave it there. What if he tries to give it to another girl?" Jake's jaw tightens as he looks back toward the kitchen and nods. Rushing back together, I grab the bottle and pass it over to Jake.

A sinister grin spreads on his lips as he looks down at it. Turning to Peter, he yells, "Heads up, asshole."

With impeccable aim, he throws the bottle over Peter's head, hitting the wall behind him. The glass explodes, raining little shattered pieces and decorating the wall with the dripping blue liquor. I can't help but clasp my hand over my mouth, unsure whether I want to gasp or laugh. I think I do a little of both.

Jake's hand on my back quickly guides us through the party and out the front door, Embry closely following. Quil's already standing outside, waiting for us in the yard, and I'm confused when I feel Jake tense beside me. He drops his hand from my back, angrily charging at Quil. Embry immediately takes over his vacated space, placing a warm hand over my shoulder blade.

Jake shoves Quil back with both hands. "Where the fuck were you?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Quil defensively asks. "I was right behind you!"

"You fucking left her alone!"

"What?" Quil and I mirror a baffled look. Jake's pissed at him over _me_?

"I left her with you and come back to some prick trying to feel up my girl!" A small amount of joy flares in my chest, and my mouth drops open slightly. Did he just call me his girl? Did he mean to say that?

"How the fuck was I supposed to know you wanted me to babysit your girlfriend?"

Jake takes a step back, his hands fisting his hair in an obvious effort to keep his anger reigned in. Looking down, he mutters the words, but I can still hear them. "She's not my fucking girlfriend."

Oddly enough, that simple - yet true - statement cuts painfully into my heart.

"C'mon, man, look at her!" Embry speaks up. "Does she look like the kind of girl who can handle herself in there?"

"Hey," I object, offended. I'm not a child. I don't need to be 'babysat.' I think, under the circumstances, I held my own pretty well. I said no to Peter, didn't I?

Embry glances down at me and shrugs, not going back on what he just said. But I don't even care anymore as I take in his face. His eye is swollen and cut, blood trickling down his cheekbone.

"Oh, Embry! Your eye!" I turn more fully to face him, one hand clutching at his arm while the other reaches to touch his cheek. Biting my lip, I stop my hand half way in midair. He laughs slightly, bringing his sleeve up to wipe the blood; he winces a little as he touches it.

"Ah, hell, it's nothing. The bastard just got a lucky shot is all."

"It's not nothing," I disagree, concerned. "We should put something on it. I've got a first aid kit in the trunk of my car."

I look to Jake partly because he still holds my keys and partly because I want to check him over too, but it's too dark and he's too far away for me to tell just yet. I didn't see him bleeding anywhere while we were inside, but I still feel the need to be sure.

He sighs deeply. Pointing at Quil, he irritably snaps, "I'll deal with you later."

Quil has the audacity to smile. "That mean you're coming tonight?"

Not giving a yes or a no, Jake grunts, already walking toward me with his hand extended. With my fingers still curled in Embry's jacket, I gently tug as I step back, wordlessly telling him to come with us as I take Jake's hand in mine.

Silently, we walk through the trashed yard to my car, Jake sneaking his arm around my waist somewhere along the way there. I continue to search his features for injuries to no avail. It's too dark to see much, but I'm pretty sure he isn't bleeding. Popping the trunk, I slide a large, red and white bag to me, using the dim trunk light to see inside.

"Is that your first aid kit?" Embry inquires. "I thought those things were supposed to be small and travel-sized." He indicates with his hands, making a box shape in the air. "That thing could be used to smuggle illegal imports to Canada."

"It's an emergency kit," I giggle while removing a blanket, jumper cables, and a rope. "The first aid is supposed to be somewhere inside."

He laughs. "You mean you don't know?"

"I've never opened it before. My car's only broken down once since I got it." I give Jake a pointed look. He cocks his eyebrow back at me.

"Well," Embry peeks into the bag next to me, "if I ever get lost in the woods, I hope you and this bag are with me…actually, that scenario wouldn't be half bad." He winks and throws his arm around my shoulders.

It's quickly ripped away as Jake growls, "Keep your goddamn hands to yourself, Call."

Embry just rolls his eyes. "I'm just joking around, _Black_," he mocks. "You know, you're really pissy when you don't get your way."

"Just hurry up and get your fucking Band-Aid so we can go."

Uncomfortably, I clear my throat, bringing their attention back to me. I hate interrupting; I really don't want their focus or anger to be turned on me, but Embry's cut is still my top priority. The trail of blood down his cheek hasn't lessened, and I'm starting to wonder just how bad it is.

"Sit down, Embry," I instruct, pointing to the bumper of the car.

"You gonna doctor me up?" His smile relaxes me slightly. I quickly glance at Jake to make sure we're okay too, but he stands with his arms crossed and his face impassive. _Well, at least he isn't glaring at me._

I begin wiping at Embry's cheek, cleaning carefully around the cut and trying not to apply too much pressure to his black eye. Thankfully, the bleeding has stopped, but God, his eye looks awful. With the trunk's light, I can see the full extent of his injury. His cheekbone is swelling, and the bruise looks much more prominent now than it did a minute ago.

"Come on, it can't be that bad," Embry teases, his hand brushing lightly against my leg. I suddenly realize that I've been holding my breath, my teeth biting hard into my lower lip and my brows knitting tightly together.

I try to relax my face and force a smile, but I don't think I can. I can't help but feel like this is somehow my fault. Instead, I focus on opening the antiseptic wipes.

Embry playfully smiles as I dab at his cut. "So, you always gonna be around to nurse me when I get hurt?"

Jake exhales loudly. Looking over Embry's shoulder, I see him shift his weight, his arms flexing.

"I dunno," I reply, my eyes still on Jake.

Finally, I finish by gently slipping on the butterfly bandage as Embry continues to joke, "Maybe we can get you a cute little nurse's outfit for next time."

"Fuck off, Embry," Jake growls. "You're done now."

"I'll go when my nurse says it's okay." Embry's words are teasing, but they have an edge about them.

Jake swiftly slips in front of me. "Get your own fucking girl, Embry; this one's mine."

"Thought she wasn't your girlfriend," Embry pointedly retorts, raising his eyebrows.

Jake gives him a dirty look and slams the trunk. "Let's go, Princess."

Embry watches Jake's retreating form, disappointedly shaking his head. "See ya', Sweetheart. Try to keep him out of trouble, will you?"

Involuntarily, I give out a sharp laugh. _As if I can control him_. "Bye, Embry."

Sliding into the passenger seat, I look at Jake, the interior lights finally illuminating his face. "Oh, Jacob," I breathe.

He looks questioningly at me as I bring my hand up to his jaw, my fingers barely touching the dark shadow that stretches to his chin. It's the bruising result of Peter's uppercut.

"Are you okay?" I almost choke on the words.

Jake smirks, "Yeah, it's not like I haven't taken a hit to the jaw before."

I bite the inside of my cheek; I feel like crying. Looking down at my hands, I murmur, "That may be true, but tonight it was on account of me."

"Hey," he places a finger under my chin, "you didn't do this. The prick inside did, and he deserved the ass kicking he got too."

I can't help but smile a little. I'm not an advocate of violence by any means, but Peter _did_ deserve it.

Leaning forward, Jake slowly takes my lips in his, kissing me softly.

A small whimper emits from my throat as his hand slides up my waist. Following his lead, I part my lips just enough to deepen the kiss, asking him for more. He complies easily while the hand on my waist moves up, his thumb brushing the underside of my breast. I don't mind; in fact, I want more. I press my body closer, my fingers curling into his hair as I try to convey my desire through my actions alone. It must work because, in the next second, Jake is cupping my breast and squeezing gently.

Suddenly, my rude inner voice returns, asking, _What the hell are you doing? Have you so stupidly forgotten you're a bet?_

I shove the voice back, the bigger part of me taking over. Yes, I'm terrified that Jake could be acting, that he could be doing this in an attempt to bed me and win the bet. But _dammit_, how am I supposed to know anything if I keep my heart at a distance?

_I_ like _him_, and right now, that's all I need to know.

Our kiss begins to slowly die down, and all too soon, he's pulling away from me. Opening my eyes, I'm almost surprised to find that the dome lights have automatically shut off, shrouding us in darkness once again.

"We'll save more of that for later," his husky tone seductively whispers. I can barely see the smirk decorating his face.

I almost ask if that's a promise, but I compose myself. "You're right; it's really late."

Turning the ignition in the car, Jake laughs, "Night isn't over yet, Princess."

* * *

**_A/N:_** Okay, it's official I am a time management FAIL. I have many excuses for why this chapter took me so long to update. None of them good.

Since it's been a while, I have several things I'd like to say...

First, thank you so much to everyone who voted for Bet on Me in the JBNP Winter Awards! I was speechless for a good two hours after finding out BoM won first place in the Favorite All Human category and Runner-up in the Most Original Story category. Also, The Mess of a Wedding Dress won runner-up in the One Shot category. I'm honored really, and so humbled to know that this story has been so well received. Thank you again and many hugs!

Second, the lovely and extremely talented Nikitajuice has made me a movie-esque BoM poster! It's so beautiful and perfect that I couldn't possibly love it more. I have it posted on my profile page and urge you to please check it out!

Third, I'd love to know what you think of the chapter! That was a bit of a wild first date, yeah?

As always, huge thanks and all my love to my beta Jkane180 and my prereaders wordslinger and bellaBBblack!


	10. Chapter 10

Jake drives in silence, taking me down several backroads that I never even knew existed. Since we left the party, I haven't been able to bring myself to say anything. I haven't even asked where we're going, mostly because I don't care but partly because he seems to be lost in thought himself. Though Jake's eyes stay focused on his driving and his expression remains impassive, the little muscle in his jaw twitches, giving him away. But of course this observation stems from my excessive focus on his injury. I've spent the last ten minutes just staring at his profile. I still feel guilty about his bruised jaw. I may not have been the one to physically hurt him or Embry, but I feel responsible somehow.

My hand reaches out for him, my fingertips barely grazing along his jawbone.

"Does it hurt?" The question slips out in a whisper without my conscious thought. Jake's hand comes up to grasp mine; interlocking our fingers, he gives me a sideways glance and a half smile, shaking his head no. His earlier words echo in my mind, _It's not like I haven't taken a hit to the jaw before. _What did he mean by that? Does he get into fights often?

Thinking back on it, Jake _was_ the first one to throw a punch - not that it wasn't justified, but I guess, in a way, he _did_ start it. Though, that's all it was: a single punch. He walked away right after. An eye for an eye, I suppose. Peter tried to hurt me, so Jake hurt him.

Jake steers the Mustang around several sharp corners, leading us further into the forest until finally he pulls onto a trail so heavily shrouded in tree branches and weeds I'm not sure that we'll be able to get through. The limbs scrape across my car like nails on a chalkboard, sending a shiver up my spine.

"Don't worry. It won't scratch the paint," he remarks in a patronizing way. As if I really care if the Mustang gets a few scratches on it. I would reply, but my words are caught in my throat as we pass through the brush to a clear, open space.

The tree line and gravel road end here, but we're sitting on top of a cliff, facing the ocean. The thick grass is surprisingly short throughout, covering the expanse of the open space except near the rocky ledge. I'm amazed; it's such a beautiful place. How did Jake know it was here?

"Wow," is the only thing I can think to say.

While I'm admiring the view, Jake's busy in the driver's seat; he rolls down the windows and lowers the convertible top. He turns off the ignition but leaves the radio playing as he leans down to release the trunk. Shooting me a devilish smile, he gets out of the car, and I scramble to follow, meeting him at the rear.

Jake pulls out the blanket from the emergency kit. "It's a good thing you have this, Princess. It'll be better than lying on the grass."

"Uh, glad I could help?"

Jake just laughs at me. Putting his arm around my shoulders, he guides us to a soft spot of grass overlooking the ocean and under the stars. Laying out the blanket, he quickly takes a seat, but I hesitate a moment before I finally consent to sit next to him, trying to keep myself at a safe distance. I can't help but feel like I've been placed in a scene in some movie; like I should be looking out at the city lights, and we should be in a line up of parked cars full of couples groping each other in their backseats. In movies, don't kids usually go to these kinds of places to have sex? _Oh God, did Jake bring me here to have sex?_ _To win the bet?_

"I won't bite, Princess," he comments on the distance between us. Easily wrapping his arm around my middle, he pulls me into his side. I feel his nose brush against my cheek as his teeth nip at my ear, causing me to jump a little. "Okay, maybe I will. But you'll like it."

His lips fall down my neck, and I want to say something to him. I want to assert myself, to shake my head and tell him that if he brought me here to sleep with me then he's got another thing coming. I swear I start to, but _oh my_, what he's doing feels so good!

One hand has moved up to my hair, helping tilt my head back so he can kiss along my throat while his other hand tickles at my waist. His nose brushes across the shell of my ear, his hot breath descending down my neck. Fluidly, he trails his lips to mine, taking them in a gentle kiss, and I don't have the heart to fight it. The next thing I know, his hands are on my shoulders, his fingers sliding under the fabric of my cardigan and pushing it down. Rolling my shoulders, I help him. The cold air bites at my bare arms as I slide the garment off, refusing to think of the consequences. _I don't want to think… I don't want to stop._

It's that last thought that makes my blood run cold. My body stiffens as I suck in a sharp breath. _I_ _don't want to stop? _

I shove myself back from him, the surprise and confusion evident on his face as I do. What the hell was I thinking? Why did I say I didn't want to stop? How far would I have allowed us to go?

"What happened?"

"I, um…" What am I supposed to say? I can't very well tell him the truth, so I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. "I really don't care if the Mustang got scratched."

His confusion shifts into something like disbelief and anger. "You're worried about your precious car?"

"No! Of course not! That's not what I meant-"

"I should fucking hope not."

Quickly, I grip his knee, shifting slightly to face him. "I'm sorry. I just meant that I _don't_ care about the Mustang."

"You stopped what we're doing to tell me that?" Jake cocks his eyebrow.

"Well, I thought earlier you seemed kind of worried that I'd be upset if you scratched it, and that's just not the case."

"Yeah, 'cause if it gets scratched, Daddy'll just buy you a new one, right?"

Indignation rises up within me as I rip my hand away. "For your information, I never wanted my dad to buy me that car! In fact, I _hate_ it! I hate that I couldn't keep the truck that _I_ bought with my _own money_ just because it was cheap!"

My cheeks flame while I fight for composure, crossing my arms tightly to my chest.

_How dare he say something like that to me! _He thinks I'm just another spoiled brat, but he doesn't really know me! He's never even tried to get to know me! He's just tried to get into my pants.

Jake looks at me sideways, his mouth pressed into a hard line before he takes a deep breath and says, "How cheap?"

I can't stop the small, disbelieving laugh. "Three hundred dollars."

His eyes stay on the ocean, but he cracks a grin. "What kind of truck was it?"

"A sixty-three Chevy, complete with cracked leather seats and a rusty bumper."

His smile widens, and I feel the tension start to ease out of me.

"And you'd rather have an old rusty bumper than that chrome-plated heap over there?" His head nods toward the Mustang.

"Yeah, I would."

He huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. "I wouldn't."

Slowly, I unfold my arms, my earlier anger forgotten.

"Don't get me wrong, the Mustang's great, but it doesn't have the same meaning." A small, wistful smile spreads across my face. "I loved that truck. I drove it around for hours, feeling so proud of myself." My words quickly harden. "But I should've known better. I was stupid for even buying it."

"Why?"

"If you knew my dad, you'd understand why." I kind of laugh, intending my answer to be a sort of joke, but Jake continues to watch me. His dark, penetrating eyes hold mine, waiting for me to elaborate.

I'm actually surprised by all of his questions. For the first time, he's genuinely talking to me; though, I can't help but wonder if it's me or the talk about cars that has him interested.

"My dad's kind of a…social climber, I guess. I don't know if that's really the best way to describe him. He's kind of obsessed with looking good in the public eye, and he's always trying to show up his country club buddies." Jake's gaze never wavers, intently focusing on me as though he's hanging onto every word. "So, when I drove that old truck into the driveway, you can imagine his reaction."

I pause, looking out to the ocean; deciding whether I should continue.

I can still see the look on Charlie's face that day. I was so excited to show him; I really thought he'd be proud of me. But he just walked around the truck with a look of contempt on his face. He said, 'That's really something, Bells,' patted me on the back, and went inside.

"Anyway, a few days later, I walked outside and found the Mustang in place of my truck… with a big red bow and everything. I shouldn't have been surprised. That truck was an embarrassment for him, though he wouldn't say that. He just said he was so happy that I took the initiative to buy my own car that he upgraded it for me.

"What was I supposed to do? Any other girl my age would've been jumping up and down, screaming and thanking her father for such an extraordinary gift, but there I was, just feeling devastated." I look back at Jake curiously. "That's crazy, right? I mean, who wouldn't want a brand new car?" Jake didn't reply, so I went on musing. "I don't even know what happened to my truck. I couldn't bring myself to ask him."

After a beat, Jake finally breaks the silence. "Why didn't you fight for it?"

"What?"

"You loved it, right? You bought it. But you let it go. Why?"

I let out a defeated sigh. "It was too late. He'd already bought the car. What could I do?"

Jake's eyebrows furrow together, incredulous. "Tell him to shove it up his ass."

"I couldn't do that."

"Why not? It's better than giving up."

"He special-ordered the car, Jake. It's not like he could've sent it back."

"That's his fucking problem."

I shake my head, dumbfounded. "You'd rather I throw a fit? Have a temper tantrum because he bought me a twenty-five thousand dollar car?"

"If it meant standing up for what you wanted, then yes."

"But that's the thing, Jake. _I should have wanted the Mustang_. Any normal person would've been thrilled to have it."

"So you sacrificed your happiness because you thought it's what you _should_ do?"

"You said yourself that you'd take the Mustang over an old crappy truck."

"Not if the truck meant something to me. I would've fought for it." He said it with such conviction that I actually envy him. He's such a strong person - physically, mentally, emotionally. It's like he's ready to take on the world at a moment's notice. I'm the complete opposite of that.

My words sound as weak as I feel. "I'm not like you."

"I know." He sighs; his fingers come up to brush back a lock of my hair. "You're a good girl."

Why does he always make that sound like a bad thing?

I frown, staring up into his intense gaze. Is it so wrong to be the good girl? Or is it just wrong for the good girl to want the bad boy?

I want so badly to know what he's thinking. But his dark, ebony eyes are always so distant and guarded. I wonder if I'll ever learn the secrets he has lurking behind them.

His fingers graze my temple while his thumb gently soothes over my furrowed brow, smoothing it out.

"Why are you pouting?" The corner of his mouth lifts into a half grin, like he thinks my pouting is cute.

Of all the ridiculous things, I blush.

This earns an even greater smile as Jake leans forward, his eyes closing and his lips taking mine. The fuzziness immediately forms in my head – as it always does with him – clouding my thoughts so I'm no longer thinking about anything but this kiss. His lips part, and I allow my instincts to take over. My hands slide down his chest to his waist, slipping between his shirt and jacket.

He starts to pull away from me, but I'm not ready for this to end. Keeping my eyes tightly shut, my fingers fist into the thin material at his hips, attempting to hold him to me. His mouth presses harder to mine in response, and I swear I feel a slight smile before he resumes with a deeper kiss. His body jerks slightly beneath my touch, and his hands disappear momentarily, though I refuse to open my eyes to find out why. A second later, his hands return to my body, coming back with a vengeance. Roughly, they grip at my sides and back, roaming the expanse of my torso.

Taking his lead, I allow myself to search his chest, my hands trailing up to his shoulders and down his bare arms. _Bare?_ His leather jacket is gone. I didn't even notice that he took it off, but that must be what he did a moment ago. Honestly, I don't even care that it's gone. I'm relishing in the feel of his smooth skin, my palms slowly gliding over his hard biceps and up to his shoulders, where they meet his shirt again. A small whine escapes me. _I want to feel more skin_.

My hands descend to the hem of his shirt. Using slightly more courage than I knew I possessed, I allowed them to slip underneath. My fingers immediately find each ripple of his abs, exploring every divot and curve. Images of Jake's naked chest at the beach flood my mind, and I picture the parts of him that I can only feel at this moment. The warmth emitting off his body only serves to remind me of how phenomenal it felt to have his bare skin pressed against mine. Heat rushes to my cheeks at the memory.

_I want his shirt to meet the same fate as his leather jacket._

Without much further thought than that, I grip onto the bunched fabric and tug up. Jake pulls back, and my eyes open as he does. If he's surprised by my brazen actions, he doesn't show it. Swiftly, using both hands, he grasps onto his shirt behind his neck and begins pulling it over his head.

_No, stop! He'll be half naked now! And _you_ encouraged it! _my inner voice screams at me. Oh God, what the hell is wrong with me? Why do I keep allowing clothes to be taken off?

"Wait!" I shout, a little too loudly and too late. Both my hands are splayed out in a stopping motion, but Jake's already removed his shirt. Quickly, I close my eyes and turn my head, as if looking at him would be indecent. I realize this is irrational - I've already seen him shirtless - but I can't seem to help myself.

"I'm sorry." I press my palm to my forehead, my thoughts and emotions running in circles. "I just…"

"Freaked out? Yeah, you do that a lot." His tone isn't angry, but it definitely has an irritated quality to it.

Keeping my eyes averted, I nod.

I don't blame him for being annoyed. One minute, I'm pushing for more, and the next, I completely shut down. He probably thinks I'm crazy because earlier today we were making out with a lot less clothes on then we have now.

_But that was different._ At the beach, that's standard attire and completely normal, but here…taking off our clothing in a secluded place while making out... It's so much more _intimate_. It has an entirely different meaning.

My stomach turns with a sick, nervous feeling. I don't want him to be mad, but what does he expect from me?

_Sex_. My inner voice is quick to reply, as if I need to be reminded.

"Why did you bring me here?" I still won't look at him, my gaze focusing solely on the blanket.

"I thought you'd appreciate the view." I can't tell from his tone if he's being serious or goading me with his half-naked form. Judging by what I know of him, I'm assuming the latter, though I'm going to pretend he's serious.

"It is beautiful here. I've never been on these cliffs before."

"No, you couldn't anyway. It's part of the reservation's private property. That's Second Beach right over there, though you can't really see it in the dark."

My eyes search for the beach anyway. "Is it okay that we're here? Could we get in trouble?"

"Only if we get caught."

Alarmed, I finally look back at him. My eyes travel down from his famous smirk to his gorgeous chest, illuminated only by the moonlight, its shadows making each rippling muscle more prominent than ever. The black swirls of his tattoo are also half hidden in the dark, making them look less menacing than usual.

Somehow, I manage to keep my train of thought. "Should we leave?"

"Do you think anyone's going to catch us out here?"

Considering the heavily-shrouded entrance and all the backroads we took to get here, it's unlikely that anyone will find us. I don't know if that thought is liberating or terrifying.

"Come here." Without warning, Jake grips my arms, pulling me backwards until I'm leaning with my back to his chest. He wraps his arms around my middle and whispers into my ear, "Its cold."

"You could put your shirt back on." I say it, but I don't really mean it. I'm enjoying the feel of this too much.

"Now why would I do that when I have you to keep me warm?" Contrary to his words, he picks up his jacket and throws it around the two of us like a blanket. Closing my eyes, I listen to the sound of the waves below while Jake's fingers absentmindedly rub circles on my arms. He brushes his lips against my temple, and I smile, thinking about how sweet he is when he wants to be.

After a moment, I break the silence. "Jake, you live on the reservation, right?"

He throws me a confused look but answers, "Yeah."

"Then why don't you go to school here?"

"Are you saying you don't want me at Forks High? That hurts, Princess."

"No, that's not it" I answer sincerely. "I just don't understand. Why don't you go to school with Embry and the other guys - where all your friends go?"

"I did until freshman year. I transferred after-" He stiffens a moment. With my head cocked on his shoulder, I watch his facial expression harden.

His demeanor is a huge clue for me to stop talking, but I can't. I prod, _carefully_. "After what?"

He looks down at me, his dark eyes conflicted and swimming with some kind of vulnerability I've never seen before. "After my mom died."

I gasp. "I'm so sorry."

"Not your fault." I feel horrible for him, knowing his mother died only a few short years ago. His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly. "It was a car accident."

"Oh, Jake." Taking his hand in mine, I give it a gentle squeeze.

"She would've liked you, Princess." He barely forces a smile. "Good girl like you, who never misses a homework assignment or a day of class. You would've been her favorite."

"What did she teach?"

"English. The Rez only has a handful of teachers, so she taught sixth through twelfth grade." Jake stares straight ahead as I continue to watch him, too afraid that if I even move he'll stop talking. His guard has finally come down, allowing me a view at the real him. "It fucking sucked having her as a teacher. But _dammit_, I got so used to her being there that once she was gone-" He shakes his head, and his arms tighten around me slightly. "The school replaced her in a week. Can you believe that? A fucking week. I couldn't stand it. The idea of her being _replaceable_…it fucked with my head."

"Your mom could never be replaced, Jake."

His eyes find mine, the pain and anger still shining within them quickly shifts to something different – something like surprise. Almost as if he forgot I was sitting here.

He moves quickly, shifting me upright. I'm still wrapped in his arms, and he kisses me hard, desperately pressing his lips to mine. Knowing that he's hurting, I give in and allow him to take full control. I recognize what he's doing all too well. My mother is gone too. Whenever she's brought up, I do whatever I can to change the subject. I don't like to see the pity behind someone's eyes when I tell them she's gone. I don't want to be reminded of the hurt when she left.

So that's what Jake is doing now: changing the subject. I don't know him well, but I've learned that he's not the emotion-sharing type, and he's especially not the type to get personal. The fact that he just unwittingly told me about his past – about the pain of losing his mother - means he has to distract himself, or me, before he accidentally divulges more.

For a moment, I wonder which of our situations is worse: having a mother who left by choice…or one who didn't?

Maybe it's my own form of distraction, but I don't want to think about it anymore. Instead, I permit the hazy fog to engulf me as we continue our kiss. Jake's desperation eases slightly as his hands run up my sides, his thumbs precariously close to the underside of my breast. I let out a soft moan, unable to contain it.

Again, I find myself wanting more - more of this, more of him, more…just _more_.

He continues to kiss me, one hand wrapped around the back of my neck and the other placed on my waist as he slowly begins to tilt us back. Trusting his strength, I let him ease us down onto the blanket. Lying with his chest pressed against mine, he holds his weight on his elbows and hovers over me while trailing kisses down my jaw and neck.

His hand slides up my waist to my breast, kneading it gently, while his opposite hand reaches for the zipper of my dress.

For a split second, my whole body lustfully urges, _Yes_.

But a soft tug on my zipper shoots a small semblance of my control forward.

"Don't."

"Relax, Princess." Lifting his head, he gazes down at me, his expression earnest and sincere. "I'm not trying to have sex with you…" he smirks, "yet."

"Why not?" I close my mouth with an audible snap. _Why did I just ask that?_

"Do you want me to?"

"No, I just-"

"Then don't worry about it." His mouth falls back to my throat, his lips and tongue tracing the curves. He murmurs into my skin, "No sex. I just want to feel you the same way you can feel me. I want this." Taking my hand, he places my palm on his bare stomach. "Is that okay?"

"No sex?"

He shakes his head and repeats, "No sex."

His fingers slowly find their way to the zipper again, and my breathing stalls. I swear I can hear each click of the zipper's teeth as he peels it down, but I don't stop him. He slides his fingers under the fabric, lightly caressing my ribs and waist.

"Trust me," he says.

He doesn't seem to realize that's my biggest problem. I _don't_ trust him. He's never given me reason to. He's only given me reasons _not_ to. But right now, that's really not my concern.

"I'm scared," I breathe.

His movements cease; his eyes snap to mine. "Of me?"

I shake my head. "Of me."

His serious features stare down at me for a second and then slowly spread into a smile as he chuckles.

"Don't laugh."

"Sorry, Princess, but you seem pretty harmless to me."

"I'm being serious."

"I'm sure you are," he appeases me, but it feels somewhat condescending. "So what's scaring you? This?" He brushes his fingers over the front of my abdomen, barely beneath my bra. It almost tickles, but the touch is so light that it sends little electric shockwaves throughout my entire body. My breathing spikes in response, and I have to bite my lip to keep from panting.

His low, husky voice continues, "Because this feels so good?"

I can't tell if he's stating that as a fact or a question. I nod because, let's face it, he's right. His fingertips haven't stopped trailing circles over my stomach, and it does feel good, _too good._

"That's the problem…" I know it's not the smartest thing to admit this, but my nerves seem to have taken over my mouth. "I don't know if I can stop…"

"Shouldn't be too hard; you've already stopped us - _several times_."

"But not fast enough! Look at us! We're lying down, you're shirtless, my dress is unzipped, and we're in a secluded area in the middle of nowhere! Not that this isn't a beautiful spot; as far as places to lose your virginity go, I'd say this is a pretty nice one!" _Oh God, Bella! Shut up, shut up, shut up!_ "I'm sure that was all part of your plan though, right? Get the girl alone in the perfect setting so you can seduce her under the stars with the ocean waves for background music. You'll be sure win the bet in record time!"

With my cheeks burning in embarrassment, my nervous-rambling outrage finally stops.

Jake's hand stills on my side, his jaw tightens, and his eyes narrow slightly. _Great, I've managed to piss him off again._

"Regardless of what you believe, I didn't bring you here to fuck you. I'm also getting pretty tired of having to repeat that, so listen closely this time. _I'm not fucking you until you beg me to._"

My mouth opens and shuts. I feel slightly berated and even more confused. What exactly does he mean?

His signature smirk returns while his eyes hold a devilish mirth. "Now we have that all cleared up, you can relax and we can finish what we started."

I know I give him an incredulous look. How does he ever expect me to relax? Especially while fooling around. It's only been a week, and I'm already letting him round second base!

"Do something for me, Princess?" Jake tries a different tactic, his voice taking on a gentler tone. "Take a deep breath."

My skeptical gaze locks with his as I follow through with his request, sucking the brisk night air deep within my lungs and letting it out slowly.

"Now close your eyes."

I raise a suspicious eyebrow instead.

"Can't you trust me?" My immediate answer is _no_, but the hopeless note in his voice and the pleading look in his eyes cause my skepticism to waver. "Please?"

Slowly, I abide by closing my eyes.

"Good, now clear your mind. Just listen and feel."

His fingers begin making those torturously slow patterns on my stomach again, eliciting a shiver from me. I almost stop him, but his magic touch and husky voice distract me.

"You're vulnerable right now, and as fucking sexy as that is, I know it can be scary." I sense him shifting his weight above me as his hot fingers trail up my bare side, following the curve of my breast so that they're slowly dancing over the swells of them.

"But you don't have to worry about telling me to stop. I know when you're uncomfortable; I can feel it in your body's reactions. I know when to stop…" His fingers glide down the valley between my breasts, one finger dipping just beneath my bra as it descends. "And when you want more." His fingers uncurl, fully cupping one mound. "I want you to trust me, to be comfortable with me, so you can relax and enjoy the…" He lightly pinches my clothed nipple, eliciting a surprised gasp from me. "…_pleasures_ I can give you."

His head lowers to whisper in my ear, his smug smile evident in his voice. "Submit yourself to me, and I promise I'll always stop us – no matter how heated things get – from having sex. Okay?"

I turn my head to look into his dark eyes. "You can't make a promise like that and keep the bet too."

"Sure I can." He kisses me briefly, as though our close proximity is too much of a temptation not to. His fingers trace over the lace of my bra. "Think about it my way. I can make you all hot, always wanting more and expecting more, yet always stopping it. You'll be begging me to fuck you in no time."

"Let me get this straight. You're not going to have sex with me until I…"

"Beg for it," he finishes for me.

"Well…I'm not going to beg you."

"We'll see."

"I won't." Jutting out my jaw, I try to look as resolute as possible.

His head dips down, nipping at my jaw, and his fingers slide under the cup of my bra, touching my bare breast for the first time as he presses his groin into my thigh.

"After a few weeks of this, Princess… you'll be begging." He pulls back to get a better look at my shocked and yet fully aroused face. "I'd bet my bike on it."

Then his mouth is on mine, swallowing any retort that I could've come up with. Not that I mind. Right now my head is spinning. It's filled with lust and urges I didn't know I even had. Things that only Jake has ever been able to bring out in me.

Something unleashes inside me. I'm mindlessly kissing him back, passionately clutching at his shoulders and fisting his hair. Perhaps all I really needed was to be free of the fear, to throw caution to the wind and let myself enjoy it without worrying.

Jake pulls my strapless bra down, freeing both my breasts for his full use. My lips detach from his but only to find their way to his jaw, kissing up to his neck and tasting his skin. He lets out a satisfied breath, and I realize that I've never done this before with him. All the times that he's kissed me, and I'm just now returning the favor.

He shifts; the arm that has been supporting his weight is now free to roam. His hand trails down my neck to my waist, descending further to my hip and thigh until it reaches my knee. Then it rises, slipping beneath hem of my skirt. His progression slows, and I think maybe he was telling me the truth that he really does read my body and that he's currently testing to see if this is okay.

His hand feels hot on my thigh, and even though I'm fully aware of its location, I'm not stopping it. My hips rise up slightly, my body reacting instinctively, out of my control. His hand falls a little lower in response, allowing his fingertips to brush against my cotton panties. Part of me is terrified that I'm permitting this - it's further than I've ever tolerated before - and yet, the other, devilish part of me is eager, wanting to experience it.

As if he can tell my mind has wandered, Jake kisses me firmly and bites at my lower lip to show his disapproval. I can't help but smile a little and pull his face back to mine.

My fingers twist nervously in his hair as his slide over my panties, gripping at my hip bone and slowly moving closer to my inner thigh. My breath catches in my throat as they inch closer to my center, the heat of them easily seeping through the thin cotton. My heart is pounding frantically in my chest; the tips of his fingers are almost there–

A loud guitar cuts through the quiet night, a drum beat quickly following with obnoxious lyrics.

"_Fuck!_" Jake's head falls to my shoulder. His hand removes itself from under my dress and digs into his pocket, pulling out his ringing cell phone.

"Fuck off, Quil. I'm busy." Jake kisses me chastely to prove his point. I can barely hear Quil's deep, mumbling voice through the phone. I'm unable to make out what he's saying, but Jake grits his teeth in response. "None of your fucking business, asshole."

The staccato voice fires back. Jake sits up quickly, and I scramble to right my dress and bra, suddenly uncomfortable with the state I'm in.

"Shit… Tell him I'm– Yeah. Bye." Jake's eyebrows pinch together as he shoves his phone back into his pocket. Looking at me remorsefully, he sighs, "Time to go, Princess."

Jake swiftly pulls me to my feet, and as I'm zipping up my dress, he folds the blanket, taking it back to the trunk. I follow out of sheer docility.

The fog that typically dissipates after I regain my space from Jake clings around, clouding my head. My thoughts are all muddled, trying to make sense of these last two minutes, but more than anything, they're trying to figure out what came over me. If it wasn't for that phone call, we would have… _Crap,_ I don't even know how to finish that thought! What would we have done exactly? And why does the fact that we were interrupted make me feel so…_disappointed_?

On the ride home, I find that I'm sinking further into my seat while my eyes are drifting closed. My already-disoriented thoughts refuse to cooperate; they keep rearranging themselves, scattering from one to the other and some not even able to finish. The more I concentrate on a single thought, the easier it seems to slip away from me until the next thing I know, I'm being jostled awake.

"C'mon, Princess, let's get you to bed."

I feel his hands underneath my arms, assisting me as I climb out of my too-small car, and for a split-second, I think how much easier this would be if I still had my old truck.

In my half-sleep state, I stumble up the driveway to the front porch. I'm about to step up the stairs when a warm hand encircles my arm. "Whoa, there. Do you wanna wake the Chief?"

I shake my head. I can hear him chuckling next to me, but my eyes refuse to stay fully open. Jake practically hauls me up the side of the privacy fence; he keeps me steady as I crawl onto the roof and through the open window.

I barely have time to kick my shoes off before I'm collapsing onto my bed, curling up into a ball and snuggling deeper into my pillow. I feel the gentle weight of a blanket being pulled up around me and a soft kiss being pressed to my temple as I finally succumb to unconsciousness.

-~~_BoM_~~-

My room is already filled with the bright, early morning sunlight rousing me from my much needed sleep. My eyes take a few moments to adjust, but once they do, I realize how wrong my assumption was. Not early morning – it's afternoon! Crap, I may not be an early riser, but I never sleep in this late.

I force myself out of bed regardless of the incessant pounding that asks me to lie back down and get some more sleep. My wobbly legs lead me straight downstairs to the kitchen, passing Charlie as he slaps together a sandwich on the counter.

"Get enough sleep, Bells?"

I roll my eyes at his sarcasm and drain my glass of juice. "Yeah, first week of school wore me out, I guess."

His eyes narrow slightly as he looks at me, and for a moment, my breath stills. _Can he see right through me_?

But then he walks away, carrying his sandwich on a plate to the living room, and I'm able to breathe again.

Since I missed breakfast, I start putting together a sandwich of my own; I've gotten so far as to place two pieces of bread down when Charlie's voice rings from around the corner.

"Bella?"

"Yeah?"

"What the hell did you do to Edward Cullen?"

My heart stammers in my chest. I mean to call out, but my words come out more as a whisper. "What?"

Charlie's tone is much more accusing. "Can you tell me why that boy is pacing on our front lawn?"

I drop everything and run to the living room. Charlie's standing by the window. He looks pointedly at me then back outside.

My thoughts briefly flutter over the worst possible scenarios first: What if someone from school was at that party last night? What if they saw me with Jake and called Edward? What if they took a picture of me with Jake and called Edward? What if Edward drove by here and saw Jake dropping me off?

The panic starts to spread throughout my body in a cold chill. Before I know it, I'm flying out the front door - barefoot, ready to drop to my knees and beg for forgiveness.

Edward's pacing ceases the moment he hears the door. His head snaps up, and all I can register is his pain-filled eyes before I stop cold in my tracks, suddenly too afraid to go any further.

His gaze travels from my head to my feet. I look down and realize that I never changed from last night. I'm still wearing the sundress from yesterday, though now it's wrinkled, probably smells like smoke from the party, and is the most incriminating thing I could possibly be wearing.

Edward hesitantly closes the short distance between us, and I briefly wonder if I beg – if I pour my heart out to him - will he forgive me?

_I wouldn't._

* * *

**_A/N: _**Whew! I thought I was never going to get this chapter done! I know it's been forever since I've updated and I'm very sorry, however I do have some great excuses. I won't go into details about my ups and many downs of real life, however, I will say that when the Joplin Tornado disaster struck and I was very devastated and busy from that. My thoughts and prayers go out to Joplin and its survivors. Please if you have the means to, I ask that you donate to the Joplin Relief Effort. They are still recovering.

_Acknowledgments_: Huge thanks go out to my favorite peeps, Jkane180 for betaing (she's a lifesaver!), Wordslinger, BellaBBblack, Evermine, and MeraNaamJoker for pre-reading and supporting me through these past few months. Real life became difficult there for a while but they were all there for me, holding my hand and even making me some wonderful birthday presents! (Evermine's _Flow into You_ is a must read and a wonderful birthday one-shot written for yours truly! If you haven't read her _Ride It_ fic and experienced Surfer!Jake, then you are missing out! Also MeraNaamJoker wrote Moon River, a one-shot based off the movie _Breakfast at Tiffany's_ and I still cannot thank her enough for that!)

Now I'm just dying to know what you thought of this latest chapter! Please let me know! *Hugs!*_  
_


	11. Chapter 11

How did I get here? Standing in my front yard, in my stain-ridden dress from last night, preparing for my boyfriend to call me every name in the book and accuse me of cheating.

Edward takes a few cautious steps toward me, his face only showing pain and nerves. "We need to talk."

The four most dreaded words in any relationship. I've never even heard them before today, at least not directed at me. What do I do? I don't want this. I don't want him to break up with me.

Edward takes my hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over them. "Bella, I'm sorry…"

My rude inner voice is already finishing the sentence for him. _I'm sorry I ever met you. I'm sorry I trusted you. I'm sorry I wasted a year with you. I'm sorry you're a cheating whore. _ I'm utterly terrified, especially of that last one being said aloud. My heart is pounding ninety to nothing, and my palms are sweating in his hands. I don't want to hear the next words out of his mouth, so I close my eyes, as if that'll stop me from having to.

"…I know you didn't want me coming over today, but I tried calling a thousand times, and I _have_ to talk to you about last night."

My breath whooshes out all at once. Whatever shred of hope I had that he doesn't know about Jake and me has completely vanished.

My eyes are filling with tears, and I'll soon be a sobbing mess, but I'm determined to keep him. _As selfish as that is._

"Edward, please let me-" Explain? How cliché that sounds. Besides, I can't explain my cheating, not really. "I mean, I'm sorry. I'm _so_ sorry I -"

"No, Bella," Edward places his hands on both sides of my neck with his thumb rubbing against my cheek. The sudden caress surprises me, and I'm sure the confusion is perfectly etched on my face. "You don't have to apologize. I know why you lied. I wish you hadn't but…I understand."

"You do?"

"I pushed you too far last night. It was my fault. I shouldn't have tried to-" He shakes his head and sighs while his fingers press marginally harder into my skin. "But, yesterday, with those La Push guys – the way they looked at you and flirted with you and what that one said about you getting bored of me…I just…I got scared. But that's not an excuse-"

"Edward, I'm confused. What are you talking about?"

He sighs. "I know you lied to me last night."

I can't find my voice. As much as I want to argue and beg, nothing will come out.

"It's okay though. I mean – no, it's not _okay,_ but -" He sighs again, bringing his hand to his forehead like he's searching for the right words. He must find them because within the next second he's grasping both my hands in his. "Bella, I love you. And yesterday I started feeling really insecure about us, and I realize now that I tried to take things too far because of that…"

My cheeks flush from his words; the images all come flooding back to me in an instant. I see Edward dropping me off and kissing me good night, his hand rising up under my skirt until I shove it away. Then a different hand with a darker skin tone flashes in place of Edward's, inching its way down my thigh, and I'm not doing a thing to stop it.

"…I just want to let you know that I never meant to make you uncomfortable and that I am really, _really_ sorry."

He is sorry, so completely sorry, that I can see it in every aspect of his being. His eyes are pleading with me to forgive him while his hands are squeezing mine like a lifeline they're afraid to ever let go of.

My stomach twists so hard that I want to clasp my arms around my middle and curl over to make it stop. The guilt is eating away at my very core. Edward's apologizing for trying to reach third base with me - his girlfriend of eighteen months who shot him down - and yet I let the guy I've only known for a week get closer than he ever has.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I can't do this to him. I can't let him beat himself up over this when he's done _nothing_ wrong, and I've done _everything_ wrong.

"Edward-" I'm not sure how I say his name; my throat feels so tight I can't even swallow.

"There's something else," he suddenly spits out.

The pain is back in his eyes, and his apologetic demeanor increases, including his anxiety. "When I got home last night…" he clears his throat a little bit, "Lauren was there, waiting for me."

He braces himself for impact. I can see it in the way he backs up the slightest fraction of an inch, but I'm too stunned and pissed and…_pissed_ to react right away.

"She was waiting for you last night? _At your house_?" That last sentence holds a little more venom than I intended.

He's quick to interject, "Nothing happened. I swear to God, Bella, nothing happened!"

"So what _did_ happen? What did you do? Did you talk to her? Did you tell her to leave? " There may be a slight hysteria in my voice as I spout off my questions, but I can't help it.

"Baby, I swear I had no idea she was going to be at my house. When I got home, she was waiting for me in the driveway. It was obvious that she…"

"That she _what_?"

The rude voice in the back of my head tells me that I have no right to be upset or asking these questions, but I _really_ need to know. My (already-questionable) sanity depends on it.

"…that she wanted something to happen."

"Of course she wanted something to happen! She was waiting for you at your house! She's been trying to steal you from me for months, but you always ignored it!"

"I know." He looks so contrite that I almost want to console him, but really, he's an idiot for always denying it. Still, I fight against the urge to hug him or throw something at him. "But I promise you, Bella, I swear on the life of my sister that I didn't let anything happen. As soon as she tried to kiss me, I-"

"_She what?_ She – _God _– she tried to kiss you?" My stomach twists with both jealousy and guilt. I know I have no right to be so upset over this, especially after what I did last night, but I can't help that at this very moment I want nothing more than to skin Lauren Mallory alive.

"She started to, but she didn't get very far. As soon as I realized what she was doing, I told her off and asked her to leave. I swear."

Skepticism leaks into my tone. "And then she left?"

"After I practically shoved her back into her car, yes."

"She tried to kiss you," I state again. "I can't _believe_ she tried to kiss you!"

Edward moves to wrap his arms around me, but I don't want him to. I try to fight out of his embrace, but he just pulls me in tighter, until we're standing with our hips pressed together and our faces only inches apart. Out of spite, I keep my head turned away. I can't let him to hold me right now. I'm too angry, too conflicted.

I want him to hold me; I want him to comfort me and tell me that Lauren means nothing to him and that's why he wouldn't kiss her. But why should he be comforting me? While he was turning her down, I was allowing Jake to feel me up.

"Bella, you know I love you. I've never even looked at another girl the way I look at you. I thought it was obvious to everyone, but I guess Lauren's just a few tools short of a full shed." He smiles, and I know that he's trying to make some attempt at a joke. Even though it's not really funny, I quirk a small smile and relax with my head against his chest.

He kisses my temple and runs his hands up and down my back; his breath tickles as he speaks into my hair. "Will you forgive me?"

My heart clinches in my chest, and I'm glad he can't see the way I flinch. He shouldn't be the one apologizing.

I squeeze my arms tighter around his waist. "You didn't do anything wrong." _I did._

"I was so scared," he confesses, and I want to die just a little. "I called a thousand times, and when you didn't answer, I thought that was it. I thought you were breaking up with me – not that I would've blamed you. I've acted like a possessive ass all week."

"You're not a possessive ass." I stop a cynical laugh from rising. _If anyone's possessive, it's me_. "And I didn't ignore your calls on purpose. I put my purse under the seat of my car last night, and I must've forgotten it."

The feeling of intense guilt washes over me again. While I was at the party and the cliffs with Jake – making out with him and letting him get way too far – my boyfriend was calling me, freaking out, and wanting nothing more than to apologize.

"Your phone's in my car?"

"No, it's in mine." I'm so distracted with my thoughts I don't realize my slip until it's too late.

His eyebrows pull together. "We took my car last night."

_Backtrack! Backtrack!_

"Oh, right…did you see it in your car?" My voice raises an octave as I ask. I'm grasping at straws, and I know it.

I brace myself for the inevitable, for him to realize what a horrible liar I am and start asking questions about where I really was last night, but to my surprise, he laughs.

"Wouldn't that be my luck? Don't be surprised when you see a hundred missed calls and texts from me."

He leads me to his car, and I'm kind of fake-checking all over for it, mumbling about how I could've sworn I'd left it there. He looks some too but eventually gives up and offers suggestions on where else it could be. "Think you left it in Mike's basement?"

I shrug. It seems like a good enough excuse. "Maybe."

"Well, if it's there, I bet my name's been changed back to 'Doucheward.'"

I can't deny that that's a possibility now that Mike and Tyler have heard the nickname. "I hate that name. I really hope it doesn't stick."

Edward flashes me his crooked smile. "It's okay. Though you'd think those two could come up with something better like…Dickward."

I laugh. "That sounds like dick-wad."

"Oh, so you like that one."

Giggling, I elaborately draw out the word "No."

Edward comes around the side of the car, and his arms wrap around me.

"What about Whipped-ward?"

Throwing my head back, I laugh again. "Hmm, I might have to think about that one." I pause for moment, pretending to really think it over. "Nope, I still like your name more. It's classic…and it's the same as Richard Gere's in _Pretty Woman_."

"Of course that's why you like it."

"Can I call you Eddy?"

"Not if you expect me to answer."

"I wonder what it says about your masculinity that you can quote that movie."

"Now my masculinity's in question? You just can't give me a break, can you?"

I slowly shake my head, stopping as Edward's lips descend to mine.

"Then maybe I should show you how _masculine_ I can be."

-~~BoM~~-

I stand beneath the water spray, wishing it could wash away all of my conflicted emotions. I don't know how it's possible to feel so many different things at once - guilt, shame, jealousy, anger, fear. I know I don't have enough time to sort through them all; I have a boy waiting for me in my bed. I told Edward I needed a shower and gave him an unnecessary excuse for still wearing last night's dress. Unnecessary because he didn't ask, but I still worried that he noticed, and it just seemed smarter to give it to him. But now I can't help but wonder if I've made myself suspicious.

My thoughts are a revolving door going from Edward to Jake to Lauren. I can't believe how far I let things get with Jake last night, but oddly, I don't regret it. I only regret pushing Edward away. I can't help but think how last night could've gone differently. How my actions could've pushed Edward into Lauren's arms. After all, Lauren is fully willing to give herself to him. All he had to do was say yes. I can imagine them last night, standing in Edward's dark, secluded driveway, Lauren wearing a tight top and short skirt as she leans in for the kiss, and instead of pulling away, he lets her. The image sends a jolt of pain into my chest, and my stomach rolls.

I have to start trying harder with Edward. I have to show him how much I really do care. If I don't, I may lose him. Worse, I may lose him to Lauren.

I can't stand the thought of him with someone else. I never knew that jealousy could be so strong. It's eliminated all doubt and only increased my feelings for him ten-fold. I feel the need to hang on to Edward tighter, to show every woman in the world (and especially that boyfriend-sniffing wench, Lauren) that he's mine. _Mine_.

Of course I have no right to be like this. Not when I have a rela- er, _bet_ with Jake.

I really don't know what I'm going to do - if anything. It's horrible and wrong, but a part of me doesn't want to stop seeing him. It's only for three months. Just three more months, and he'll be done with me. My gut clenches. I've known all along that Jake sees me as a temporary challenge – a bet. He doesn't care for me like Edward does.

But that's the key, isn't it? Jake has every intention of leaving me at the end of three months. Edward doesn't.

Edward's my boyfriend – my priority.

As I shut off the water, I know I'm just going to keep doing what I've been doing: flying by the seat of my pants and praying that I don't get caught.

While getting dressed, I make the split-second decision to forego a particular piece of clothing. I need to show Edward how much I care about him, and maybe (just slightly) this decision also has to do with relieving my soul-crunching guilt.

A few butterflies assault my stomach as I walk into my bedroom and find Edward lying on his back with his arms crossed behind his head. An image of Jake laying in the same position in the same spot the night before crosses my mind, but I quickly shove it away. I'm _not_ going to think about Jake while I'm with Edward. _I'm not_.

I close the door about three-quarters of the way, enough that Charlie can't see in but also open enough that he won't think anything is going on.

Edward opens his eyes at the sound of the door and smiles at me – that crooked smile that I love so much. I don't even bother with words as I walk to the bed and crawl on top of him, my mouth falling to his. He grunts in surprise and moans his satisfaction while I continue to kiss him with increasing determination, hoping he'll understand my unspoken request.

I'm too embarrassed to vocally say what I want, but when Edward's hands slide around my waist, raising my shirt enough so they can slip beneath it, I hum my approval. I'm impatiently waiting for him to discover my secret, for his hands to rise just a little bit higher. When his fingertips finally reach the swell of my breast, Edward pulls back, and his smile is wide.

"No bra?" As he says it, he takes the opportunity to fully cup my breast. I try not to blush as I shake my head, my smile widening; his reaction is exactly what I was hoping for. I immediately go back to kissing him. It's not like this is uncharted territory for Edward and I, although it's the first time I've taken the initiative to do something so provocative. It feels…scandalous.

Edward rolls us over so that he's leaning on top of me, his lips zealously attacking my own. He lifts my shirt higher up my torso, and I find that I'm nodding my head in approval. Charlie's right downstairs, so I know I can't take my shirt off, but I find that I kind of want to. Edward must have a similar idea because he raises my shirt until it reaches my chest; he locks his eyes with mine momentarily, silently asking if it's okay to continue. The heat rushes to my face, but I scarcely nod my assent. Now _this_ is uncharted territory; I've never been bared for anyone before. Edward's a perfect gentleman about it as he continues to look me in the eye even as he's raising my top up and over my breasts. He casts his eyes down to look at me for the first time, and though I thought it would be embarrassing and awkward, it's not. It's special, really. I feel closer to him now than I have in a long time, and becoming intimate with him just feels _right_.

Edward's cheeks tinge a light pink color while I bite my bottom lip. I think he's about to say something, but he must change his mind. Instead, he just leans forward, kissing my chest. It feels odd and good at the same time. I'm feeling tingly all over as I try not to anticipate his next move. He begins a trail of open-mouth kisses leading to my nipple, and when he takes it into his mouth; I can't stop a gasp from escaping. I didn't expect it to feel so _good,_ but it does.

My nails dig into his shoulders as he switches from one to the other, and I've lost all track of time until we both hear a creak in the steps at the same time. Edward helps me yank down my shirt and sit up in bed. I flip on the TV but listen carefully for Charlie's heavy footfalls to pass. They stop briefly, and I know he's peeking into the room to check on us before he goes back downstairs.

"That was fun," Edward whispers, nuzzling my ear and making me giggle. He kisses me sweetly on my temple, cheek, and jaw. I feel so happy and content in this moment that I almost completely forget about my guilt. It's still there, of course, but it's amazing how one blissful feeling can overlap so many others.

-~~BoM~~-

"That fucking bitch!"

"Shh! Alice, keep your voice down!" I've just finished telling Alice everything in the quietest whisper while practically hiding inside my locker. The last thing I want is for half the school to know about Lauren Mallory showing up at Edward's house Saturday night.

"Have you clawed her eyes out yet? I can hold her down while you kick the crap out of her. But only if I can have a few punches too. I've wanted to do it for _years_."

"Alice!" I admonish.

"You're right; death is too easy for her. We'll strip her naked, wrap her in some saran wrap, and drop her off in the middle of a corn field."

"Where are you going to find a corn field in Forks?"

"Fine. We'll drop her off in the middle of the woods, so a bear can eat her."

"Alice!"

"Bella!" she mocks me. "Why aren't you more upset about this? You should want her eaten by bears!"

"I _am_ upset about it. But what am I supposed to do?"

"I think my idea was a pretty good one," she mumbles, and I just roll my eyes. "Well, standing here bitching about it isn't doing you any good either."

"He said no. That's got to be good enough. Besides, you know I hate confrontation, and in a verbal smackdown, Lauren will kick my ass."

"So you're just going to let her get away with it?"

"Get away with what? Edward told her no."

"But she still went behind your back and-" her eyes flicker over my shoulder, "and I got the cutest shoes yesterday! They were half off and a total steal. Hello, Edward."

I slam my locker shut as two arms wrap around my middle and a chin lands softly on my shoulder. I place my hands over Edward's, smiling and pretending like we weren't just talking about him. Alice is always amazing at changing the subject at record speeds.

"Hey, babe, how was practice this morning?" He places a small kiss on my cheek before I pull away to face him.

"I got there five minutes late, of course, so Miss Davenport made me run five laps around the gym, but other than that it was good. We're all ready for Friday's pep rally."

We talk until the bell rings, and Edward walks us to class, stopping right outside the door before we go our separate ways. That's when I notice Lauren walking this way down the hall. My first reaction is to wrap my arms around Edward and press my cheek into his chest, smiling like I know we're the cutest and luckiest couple at this school. He doesn't question my sudden embrace; he just runs his hands up and down my back, but I suppose it's completely obvious what I'm doing, so maybe he knows and is fine with it.

Alice raises her eyebrow at me and smirks. She glances at Lauren then back to me, mouthing, "_She's watching_."

Best co-conspirator ever.

I rise onto my toes and brush a kiss to Edward's jaw, trying to act as inconspicuous as possible. But he grips my chin, gently tilting my head up so he can capture my lips in a searing kiss. It's apparent that as much as I want to show Lauren that Edward belongs to me, he wants to show it more. Maybe this is mean or vindictive, possibly immature, yet I don't really care. I'm elated that Edward's on my side with this, that he wants to drive his point home as much as I do. _He's mine_.

Of course, our kiss has to be cut short. We can't really make out in the hallways at school without some sort of reprimand, so I pull away from him, smiling like the idiot I am.

I sneak a stealthy glance over at Lauren, positively glowing in smugness as I see her scowl… until my eyes stray to the dark figure brushing past us and into the classroom. I can't explain the sinking feeling I get in my stomach as I realize who it is.

_Jake_.

Is it too much to hope that he missed our ridiculous display?

I jump as the bell blares, the action causing me to lose focus on Jake and return to Edward.

"I'll meet you after class?" The satisfied smile is still on his lips as he asks, and I nod, wishing mine could have lasted.

Alice weaves her arm through mine, tugging me into the classroom. My eyes are trained on Jake as we enter, and I'm desperately hoping that he'll look up at me and give me some sort of reassurance.

He never does.

"I thought you weren't going to do anything," Alice annoyingly starts, and all I really want is for her to drop it.

I pause before answering, pulling my books out of my bag while trying not to glance at the boy sitting behind me. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, so you practically dry hump your boyfriend before all your classes?"

Jake snorts behind me, and my cheeks flame.

"We did not…do that!" I couldn't possibly feel more horrified. It's bad enough that Alice's mouth has no filter, but it's so much worse knowing Jake's listening to every word of this conversation.

"It's not a bad thing. Edward's football co-captain, he's popular, he's _hot, _and completely crazy about you. There's not a boy at this school who's better than him. He's _the_ catch, Bella. And you caught him."

"Fucking Doucheward," Jake mumbles. Automatically whipping my head around, I glare at him. But I hear Alice squeak next to me, and my glare quickly turns into wide-eyed fear. She snaps her mouth closed and shoots pointed, meaningful look that I know she expects me to interpret, but I honestly can't.

What _exactly_ did she just figure out?

Mr. Moore chooses this precise, horrible moment to come into the classroom and start his lesson. I tear off a piece of paper, thinking that I'll write Alice note. I'm at a loss for what say. I have no idea what she's thinking, and I'm afraid to give away too much information. I close my eyes and focus on my breathing. It won't do me any good to have a panic attack in the middle of a history lesson. I should be bored out of my mind, but instead, I can't sit still. The next hour is torture. My knee is bouncing all over the place, I've already chewed off half of my pencil eraser, and I certainly can't concentrate on the board to write notes. I try to keep my glances at Alice to a minimum, but I'm completely failing; though, she doesn't seem to be having quite the same trouble concentrating as I am. I've noticed her sending covert looks back at Jake a few times.

I'm trying to convince myself that she doesn't know anything detrimental. It's just hard to believe that when the rude part of my brain keeps telling me the worst.

The second the bells rings, I'm up and out of my seat, haphazardly throwing everything into my backpack before I grab Alice's wrist and drag her to the closest girl's restroom. I still don't know what I'm going to say, but luckily, I don't have to come up with anything because she starts talking the minute the door closes behind us.

"I can't believe Jake's the one who put Doucheward in your phone! I would've _never_ thought it was him!"

"You wouldn't? Er, I wouldn't have either…weird."

"Right? It's so weird! I mean, _Jake_? It doesn't even make sense!"

"It doesn't?" I mentally kick myself; that should've sounded more like an agreement and not a question.

"Jake isn't the pranking type. He's the scary, gangbanging, get-too-close-and-you'll-regret-it type. So why did he do it?" She looks at me, and I realize maybe that question wasn't meant to be rhetorical. "There has to be a reason behind it."

"You're not gonna like…_ask_ him are you?"

"Please, Bella, I'm nosey, not suicidal."

I breathe a sigh of relief though it's short-lived as I think about Alice's big mouth. "You're not going to tell Edward, are you?"

She gives me a quizzical look, and I understand where she's coming from; I'd be looking at me funny too. "Why not?"

"You know Edward. He's…" possessive, like me, "…protective. You know he'll want to confront Jake about it, and I just don't want Jake to…"

"Kick the shit out of your boyfriend?" She sighs. "Yeah, I get you. Jake seems like he'd be more willing to kick-ass-now and ask-questions-later."

I know she's probably right. If Edward said the wrong thing, I could totally see Jake throwing the first swing. But for some reason, I don't really want to agree with her. "So you'll keep this a secret?"

"Yeah." She almost sounds disappointed.

-~~BoM~~-

Perfecting the little white bow in my hair is a lot more difficult to do when I can't seem to stop my fingers from shaking. It takes several deep breaths and, finally, Angela's steady hands to tighten it so it lies perfectly over my ponytail.

Her dark brown eyes meet mine in the locker room mirror. "Don't worry, Bella. We could do this routine in our sleep."

I try to smile, I really do, but I can't manage it. Instead, I look down, inhale deeply, and nod. It's on the tip of my tongue to tell her it's not what she thinks; I'm not nervous about pep assembly at all. Because she's right: we've practiced this routine so many times I can do it blindfolded - which is saying a lot considering the complexities of it.

The reason my stomach is tying itself in knots isn't because we're about to perform our toughest stunting routine in front of the whole student body but because of a _particular_ student body who will be watching. No, I take that back, he'll be _glaring_ - his one expression that actually scares me.

The last four days have been fairly uneventful. With the exception of our rigorous practice schedule and Alice's incessant questioning, it was pretty par for the course. Though, every chance Alice had, she'd pounce, asking if Jake had talked to me again, looked at me, or given any kind of notice to me whatsoever. I was so adamant about hiding the truth that my answer was always a short, automatic _no_. It was somewhere around Alice's fiftieth note (which I promptly tore into a thousand pieced and threw away) that I realized I wasn't lying.

I was so busy giving Jake the silent treatment for his 'Doucheward'

slip (especially after I asked him to stop using that name - a request he clearly ignored) that I hadn't noticed he was doing the same.

It shouldn't have bothered me. I mean, Jake ignoring me was exactly what I wanted. I could go back to my normal life - spending junior year with my boyfriend and friends without all the lies and interference from him.

Yet, for some reason, I couldn't stop this nagging feeling. His behavior was a complete one-eighty from last week, when he'd practically stalked me. So why was he suddenly being distant? I told myself it was because we were at school, that he didn't want to risk anyone finding out, but I feared it was for other reasons. Like maybe _I_ was the reason.

I'm so horribly inexperienced, and the last time we were together we were on a gorgeous cliff, heavily making out with his hands beneath my dress. I'm not naïve enough to think I'm the first girl he's done this with. Knowing his reputation, I'm just one of many (something that bothers me more than I want to admit). I couldn't help but think that our little tryst showed him just how inexperienced I am. Maybe he decided I'm not worth the trouble of the bet after all.

But then this morning happened.

_ Folding my cheerleading skirt beneath me, I sit in my usual seat first hour; the cold plastic chair holds a sharp sting against my bare legs. I try not to glance at the door every few seconds, waiting for Jake, but it's hard. As much as I don't want him to feed Alice's newest obsession, I want some kind of interaction. Something to tell me he hasn't discarded me completely. I want to berate myself for my irrational thinking. It's exactly what I expected of him in the beginning anyway. He takes what he wants from girls then tosses them away. I saw the way he was with Lauren. He slept with her and then acted like he didn't even know her the next day. So why should I be surprised when he does the same to me? At least I didn't actually sleep with him. _

_ Five minutes after class has started, the door swings open, and Jake comes stalking in like he owns the place. He's wearing his normal dark colors, his hair is slightly disheveled, and the dark bruise that's been clouding his jaw is finally starting to fade. I can't seem to stop my eyes from trailing him as he walks through the room and takes his seat behind me. His eyes are cast downward as he pulls out a notebook and pen, never once looking back at me. I turn slowly in my seat so I'm facing the front again, desperately trying to squelch down these foreign feelings of rejection and abandonment. _

_ I try to force my attention up front and push all thoughts of Jake to the back of my mind. Because, let's be honest: I'd really like to _pass_ my junior year. Throwing myself into my work actually helps the class go by faster, so by the time the bell rings, I've written about double what I need in notes. _

_ I also take more time than I should putting my things away while trying (and failing) not to sneak glances at Jake as he stays seated behind me. Alice waits impatiently by the door, so I know I can't dawdle much longer. Withholding a sigh, I stand up, slipping my bag onto one shoulder as I hear the strained whisper coming from the boy I've been obsessing over._

_ "Fuck me." Jake's eyes are on my skirt, raking up and down my legs and stopping again somewhere around my hips, which I now notice are right in his line of vision. _

_It's absolutely ridiculous how relieved I am. _

_Who knew two little expletives could make me feel so _good_? _

Who knew that those words would lead me to making such a horrible decision? That they were going to lead to my current predicament: standing in formation in the middle of the gymnasium, practically hyperventilating before a performance because I can see him. Standing in the center of the back row. And, oh yeah, he's glaring right at me.

_Jake slides into the seat beside me with a look I can't quite decipher, and I'm not sure I want to. _

_Contrary to popular belief, I'm not completely naïve. I know the way he looked me up and down last hour wasn't innocent and a direct result of my cheerleading uniform. But he's not looking at my skirt now._

_The intensity of his eyes on mine is almost predatory. And yet, oddly enough, the way he's staring at me isn't making me feel uncomfortable. It makes me feel…hot. I mean in the literal, physical way (though a little bit of the figurative way too). My body temperature is rising while I'm sure my cheeks are showing a bright, unattractive color. He smirks, and I have to admit that my heart rate doubles. _

_It's ridiculous to even try and ignore the way my body reacts to him. The last few days, I've tried, convinced that he was through with me, but just one smirk, and I'm the smitten kitten all over again. _

_However, my rude-yet-sensible voice is much less pleased. It's skeptical and guarded, telling me not to fall back into this trap because that's what it is. This sudden interest in me after a week of nothing – it's confusing, and I'm quickly questioning every second of it. Does he have something hidden up his sleeve, or is it purely his sexual prowess hunting for a short skirt? Or is it possible in some small, minuscule way that he actually wants me? I hate to admit that I'm most hopeful for the last. _

_He doesn't say anything, and I glance quickly at Miss Davenport sitting cross-legged on her desk as she waits for her students to settle in. I know she's going to begin any second now, and I shouldn't start conversation (especially not in my cheerleading coach's class because she expects more from her cheer girls), but I can't stop word vomit._

"_You've been ignoring me."_

"_Ignoring you?" He repeats it like I'm a petulant child. _

"_Yes, _ignoring_ me. You haven't so much as looked at me since Monday."_

"_Get over yourself, Princess. Unlike your _preciousboyfriend,_ my life doesn't revolve around you."_

_Ignoring the sting of that comment, I snap back, "Then why are you here?"_

_Jake raises his eyebrow, and my cheeks instantly redden. I realize that my question is still considered vain, which he's just accused me of being. In a way, I think he's right; he's not my boyfriend so I shouldn't expect his attention, but I'm too hurt to rephrase._

"_Should I be skipping?"_

"_What? No. I mean, why are you sitting here with me?"_

"_You wanna skip with me? Fuck around in the janitor's closet?"_

"_Of course not!" I hiss. My eyes immediately cut to Miss Davenport, afraid that she could somehow hear the undertone of his voice from fifteen feet away and over the twenty other students murmuring. "I'm being serious."_

"_So am I."_

_I shake my head at him, but my insecurity emerges. He's avoided me all week, and the only reason I can come up with is because I'm not good enough. Not experienced enough. So his comment has me thinking, "Would you really want _me_ in there with you?"_

"_Fuck yeah, I would." _

_His immediate response has me smiling._

_Miss Davenport stands and tells us all to quiet down so she can begin class. As much as I love Miss Davenport, reading chapters of _The Outsiders_ out loud really isn't that riveting. The only thing keeping me awake is the close proximity of Jake and the mental images of Patrick Swayze and Tom Cruise in their younger years. _

_Jake leans in close to my ear, whispering "Let's get out of here."_

_He wants us to skip class? It sounds tempting, but, "I don't think I could do it."_

"_C'mon, Princess, being bad feels _really_ good." _

_I'm positive he's using an innuendo, and I'd be lying if I said I'm not considering it. _

"_I don't know."_

"_Please? I'm dying here." Maybe it's the mention of dying, but I instantly think of his mother – the English teacher. It was because of her death that he moved to this school, unable to handle someone taking her place. I wonder if he still has trouble with this class even now, three years later. _

"_If I say yes, will you answer my question about why you were ignoring me?" _

_He nods, and I tell myself that's the reason I'm agreeing. Though my rude voice knows it's because he's finally acting interested in me again. _

"_In five minutes, pick up a hall pass." _

I didn't do it.

It's not that I didn't want to, but five minutes can seem like an insurmountable, short amount of time. While staring at the seconds of the clock, watching them tick closer to each minute, I had too much time to dwell on my doubts and fears. Without Jake sitting next to me, convincing me to leave, I discovered that I wasn't nearly brave enough to through with it. Though, I wanted to. I pictured myself standing up and following him out the door a hundred times, but one look at Miss Davenport had me contemplating the consequences all over again.

If I'm being honest, it wasn't just the fear of getting caught and the risk of expulsion that kept me in my seat, but the fear of jumping back into this relationship with Jacob.

As I sat in my seat and watched the minutes come and go, I never actually decided on what to do. I still wanted to get up and find Jake, yet I was too afraid to move. This ultimately caused Jake to be stood up. Something he told me he hated last week.

I suspected he'd be angry, which is being confirmed even now as I plaster on a fake smile and lift myself up into the arms of the girls below me, bending one knee and throwing my arms into a sharp V above my head. Jake's glare follows my every move, and even though I try to ignore him and focus on our stunting routine, my eyes still find him in the stands.

I was lucky after English. I didn't have to see Jake again in our other shared classes. Miss Davenport signed us all out of homeroom so we could practice one last time before the pep assembly, and our assembly is being held in place of our last class of the day.

I cradle drop into the arms of my teammates, they promptly place me on my feet, and we all shout "Spartans!" Judging by the look on Miss Davenport's face, the routine went off without a hitch. We're relieved until we have to perform again at the start of tonight's football game for our families and fans. We continue to smile and cheer for a minute before we're allowed to take our seat in the front row and watch the dance team take their places on the floor, ready to show off their half-time performance.

As I sit between Angela and Jessica, I can still feel Jake's eyes on the back of my head, but I pretend I don't.

I know I can't avoid him forever. He'll find me, and when he does, there will be repercussions to pay. I'm simultaneously nervous, thrilled, and afraid of what that price may be.

-~~BoM~~-

I ignore the chill in the air as I chant along with my fellow cheerleaders, staring up into the crowd seated above me. The brisk, cool wind flips the pleats of my skirt with every breeze, but as we continue to dance, the draft quickly becomes refreshing.

Alice sits amongst the band in full uniform, her flute lifted to her lips as she plays our school's fight song. Angela and Jessica are beside me as we cheer for our boys playing on the field behind us. Edward winks and smiles at me whenever he comes up to the sidelines before dashing off again.

I love every moment of these football games.

As I scan over the crowd, I notice all the familiar faces, including my father's. He's sitting tall and proud next to Alice's parents as they gossip and smile at us. Mrs. Brandon always laughs at the faces Alice and I make at each other. I notice Edward's parents sitting further up with the Newton's as they shout profanities down at the referee's below.

I laugh until I notice three tall, darkly dressed boys walking up the stairs. My steps falter as I watch Jake, closely followed by Quil and Embry, taking seats at the top right corner of the stadium.

I knew he'd want to find me at some point, but I hadn't guessed he'd come here of all places. The chanting, cheering camaraderie of school and families certainly doesn't seem to fit his type of enjoyment. In fact, I'd bet this is the first football game he's ever attended. And he's brought back-up with him.

* * *

_A/N:_ *Knocks on laptop screen* Hello? Are you still with me?

I'm really sorry that this chapter took so long to update. Besides being just plain busy I started a new full time job and it's taken a lot out of me. Needless to say, all that free time that I had when I worked part-time was quickly zapped away by the 40+ hours a week and all the things I'm required to do in life, leaving me little time to write. Though I have never given up on BoM and have no intentions of doing so. Not a day goes by that I dont think about continuing this story and I will finish it. I promise you. Though it may take a few years...

Because it's been so long since I've update I have to go back in time and thank all of you who voted on the JBNP website for both BoM and The Mess of the Wedding Dress. I'm so honored to have won! Thank you so much!

Also, I urge you to go to the Jacob Black N' Pack website and read all the wonderful entries for the Naughty or Nice Christmas Contest. There are some great ones in there!

Lastly, I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter I know a lot happened what with Edward's confession about Lauren, E/B's rounding 2nd base, Jake's avoidance and Bella's insecurities. And then that cliffie ending (I know I'm evil!)

Big special thank you and huge hugs go to Jkane180 for betaing! This story wouldn't be where its at today if it wasn't for all of her insight and help. She's truly one of a kind. I don't know what I'd do with out her.

Wishing you all happy holidays and many *hugs!*


	12. Chapter 12

_I knew he'd want to find me at some point, but I hadn't guessed he'd come here of all places. The chanting, cheering camaraderie of school and families certainly doesn't seem to fit his type of enjoyment. In fact, I'd bet this is the first football game he's ever attended. And he's brought back-up with him. _

My hands start to sweat around my pom-poms as I stare up at the three boys sitting at the corner of the stadium. Embry gives me a small wave that I can't return as I continue my best to keep up with the dance. I try to smile back, but my eyes focus on Jake, who's leaning forward with his elbows on his knees and one smug eyebrow raised that says, "Did you think you were safe here? I said you couldn't avoid me. I'll always find you. I'm _that_ badass."

Okay, maybe that's just what I think he's saying. In all reality, he could just be thinking, _I want some nachos_, but I doubt it. He's still angry, not that I can blame him for that. I know I'm the one who screwed up. I shouldn't have led him on only to stand him up. And that's exactly how Jake's going to see it, but honestly, I was just afraid. Do I really need to be penalized for that? What I did was wrong; I can admit that. But in my defense, meeting him would've been wrong too.

We could've been caught. I could've been suspended from the cheerleading squad and probably school. Not to mention, I would've actively been cheating on Edward _again_ - not that that should even matter anymore considering how many times I've already done it.

The song suddenly stops. I've been so focused on my thoughts and staring at Jake I hardly realized I was still dancing on autopilot. I snap my gaze back to the front so quickly that I actually stumble on my last step. My cheeks feel ten degrees hotter as I think about everyone who just witnessed me trip (especially Jake).

I glance up at Alice. If I just made a total fool of myself, she'd be the one to tell me. She places her flute on her lap, raises a quizzical brow, and turns to look in the top right corner of the stadium, where my focus has been occupied for the last few minutes. I almost want to shout, _No! Don't look!_ even though I know it's a lost cause.

Alice's mouth drops open in a small gasp. She turns back to me with her eyes wide. I bite my lip and shrug in response. I'm honestly at a loss right now. I don't know what Alice is thinking, but I'm betting she's starting to come to the conclusion that Jake's my stalker. This doesn't sit well with me. Knowing Alice, she'll probably try to intervene somehow - save me from the 'scary boy.'

Angela giggles beside me, bringing my attention to her. She's listening to Jessica prattling on about Mike, and that's when I realize how tight of a situation I'm in. They met Jake, Embry, and Quil last week. What are they going to think when they see the three boys sitting in the stands? It was one thing to run into them on the beach on their reservation, but this is our territory. (Yes, I realize that sounds like a line from _The Outsiders, _which I'm probably only referencing because it's what we read in class today, but my point remains the same.) It doesn't make sense for them to be here. They're not exactly showing their Forks High spirit considering only one of them actually attends this school, and even then, it's debatable on whether or not he's a "true Spartan."

Anyone who sees them is going to be asking why they're here, and if Jake's still as angry with me as I think he is, he's not going to be stealthy about confronting me. As I look back up at the stands, everything seems to freeze. Mrs. Brandon is poised ready to snap a picture. Mr. Brandon and my dad clap for our team in slow motion. Mr. and Mrs. Cullen are shouting at the coaches, but their voices are drawn out and deep while the seconds tick by like hours. Familiar faces are spread throughout the crowd; a hundred neighbors, parents, and classmates surround me. I realize it's not only my friends that I have to worry about: we're _surrounded_ by potential witnesses.

_Jake can't confront me here_! And I'm about ninety-five percent sure that's what he's going to do. The other five percent is still clinging to the nachos idea.

The last time he was angry with me was at the beach, when I inadvertently gave him the impression that my relationship with Edward had grown physical. I was lucky then because he was too far away to expose us. He followed me to the bathrooms to confront me and, well, assault me with a fierce kiss behind the wall. I wonder if this confrontation will hold the same punishment? I can't even pretend I'm not excited about the prospect of it. The memory of that kiss is so different from all our others. It was angry, revengeful, and intensely passionate. Will he kiss me like that again? Will he pull me tight against his body and grab onto a fistful of my hair as he slams his lips to mine, forcing the emotions he's feeling onto me?

_Focus Bella, _my inner voice shouts.

Fighting off a flush, I train my eyes on Alice to keep from looking in the top right corner of the stadium. There has to be a way that I can talk to Jake tonight without our exchange becoming suspicious. I don't want to avoid him anymore, and any attempt to do so would be futile anyway. Besides, I owe him an apology. I have to explain what happened in class this morning – why I couldn't just skip class and follow him out the door.

My gaze flickers up to him, and my stomach twists with nerves. _God, why couldn't I just follow him out the door__? _What would've happened if I'd snuck out of that classroom? Would Jake really have taken me to the janitor's closet? It sounds so cliché yet tantalizing. What would have happened behind that closed door? I'm afraid I'll never know, and I'm astounded by how much that disappoints me. If I could go back in time and do it all again…

Our captain claps and starts off another cheer. I join in on cue, plastering a fake smile onto my face. Throughout the first quarter, I try not to watch in my peripheral vision as Quil gets up from his seat and wanders down the bleachers. I force myself to focus on Mrs. Brandon as she snaps another picture of me on the track, instead of on the two boys intently watching me from their perch high in the stands.

I'm only granted small reprieves when we break and turn our backs on the crowd to watch minutes of the game. I always search for Edward's number immediately. Whether I do so consciously or out of habit, I honestly don't know. He skirts around several Sequim players until he's standing alone near the ten-yard line. Ben tosses him the ball, and Edward jumps, catching it right before he's tackled.

The crowd screams, and we turn around to join them, jumping and cheering. With everyone distracted, I chance a glance at Jacob. The smile on my face evaporates as I see Quil's back, accompanied by four girls - three brunettes and one blonde. Two sit themselves on the end of the row next to Jake, one sits next to Quil, and the fourth (the blonde one, of course) squeezes herself in the two-inch space between Embry and Jake. And that's not even the worst part: they're wearing _Sequim_ _Wolves_ shirts!

I'm immediately disgusted. They look like some kind of a slutty-wolf fan club, all throwing themselves at the boys on _our_ side! They may be wearing their team's colors, but they wouldn't know school spirit if it was shoved up their asses.

I'm irritated, and I know I shouldn't be staring anymore, but its hard not to. The blonde places one hand on Embry's arm and the other on Jake's knee. Embry shifts in his seat as if he's trying to get further away from her, but Jake's not doing anything about the touch. In fact, he acts as though he's not even paying attention. His gaze is locked on something else. I follow it to the area in front of me, trying to figure out what's captured his attention, but instead, I catch my dad walking down the aisle.

As Charlie walks toward the stairs, I glance back up at Jacob, only to see that his eyes are on my father's retreating figure. The four girls start giggling, and the brunette on Jake's right touches his thigh. Jake gives her a sideways glance, leans back, and crosses his arms as if he's bored.

_Good_. I hope the slutty-wolf fan club can take a hint and go back to their own side. I feel like screaming, _They're not interested!_ but figure that'd be kind of detrimental to the whole situation.

Instead, I just bite the inside of my cheek and try to ignore them. I do a horrible job, of course. Every few seconds, I take a glance, gritting my teeth more each time.

The brunette's scooting closer, pressing her breasts to Jake's arm and talking in his ear. I look away.

Jake smirks at the girl next to him. I look away.

The blonde uses her brunette friend as an excuse to lean across Jake's lap. I look away, scowling.

I want to run up there and yank those girls away from him by their hair.

_Violent much?_ My rude voice asks, and I roll my eyes at it.

When I check again, Jake's pushing the blonde back and sitting up straighter. I'm so pleased that he moved her off him that it takes me a moment to notice his focus is on the front stands. I look, too, and see my dad ascending the stairs and walking toward me with two steaming cups in his hands. Jake is watching my father as he makes his way to me. I'm hoping that seeing my dad made him think of me and that's why he shoved the blonde away. Though, that may just be wishful thinking.

Charlie holds a cup out to me, and I rush up to the wall to take it from him.

"It's getting kinda chilly. I thought you could use some hot chocolate."

"Thank you, Daddy."

He winks at me. "No problem, Kiddo. You're doing a great job out there."

I smile and thank him again. He doesn't know anything about cheerleading, but he's sweet to compliment me.

Setting the cup down, I quickly get back to my place in formation just in time to see Jake nod at Embry. The boys stand and start to descend the stands, the four girls following closely.

I don't know where they're going, but I highly doubt they're leaving.

It's almost half time, which means Alice will be on the field with the rest of the band, and the dance team will perform too, giving us break. It'll be my best opportunity to talk to Jake. A little flutter of nerves forms in my stomach. I just have to make sure that when I find him (or he finds me) no one is around to hear our conversation.

Now that he's no longer in the stands to distract me, I can fully concentrate on cheering. But now I can't tell what's worse: trying not to watch when girls are throwing themselves at him or not being able to see him at all.

-~~BoM~~-

"Bella, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine."

Angela doesn't look at all appeased. Turns out that my odd behavior during the first half hasn't gone unnoticed.

"I'm just tired. I think I'm going to go say hello to Edward's parents. You know, be the good girlfriend and all."

_Ha! The good girlfriend? _My rude inner voice uses sarcasm like there's no tomorrow.

I smile, and even though I can't see it, I'm sure it looks about ten different kinds of fake. But Angela just nods and says okay before looping her arm through Jessica's and heading off to the concession stand. I can't tell if she really believes me or if she's just too sweet to push the issue.

I barely wait for them to disappear into the crowd before I'm joining it and searching for Jake. Halftime couldn't come soon enough, and now that it's here, I wish I had more time to think. But I don't. At the most, I have twenty minutes before I have to be back on the field. This is hardly enough time for a real heart-to-heart.

Luckily, I spot Embry quickly. He's still surrounded by members of the slutty-wolf fan club, clearly flirting with them. I rush closer, noticing that Quil's standing next to him with his arm hung around the only blonde's shoulders, and that's when I take count of them. One brunette is missing.

And so is Jake.

The previous five percent of me expands to 99, I suddenly want him to be at the concession stand getting nachos for a _whole_ new reason.

Embry catches sight of me a moment before I reach them. He turns his back on the two girls, dropping all pretenses of flirting, and smiles widely at me.

"Sweetheart!" He holds his arms open, enveloping me in a hug. "Did you come to give me my check up? My eye is healing nicely, all thanks to your nursing."

Placing my fingers under his chin, I tilt his head slightly and bring his bruised eye into better light. "Oh, Embry, it does look better."

Don't think I'm not noticing the dirty looks the slutty-wolf fan club is giving me. "So where's Jake? Getting nachos?"

Don't think I'm not noticing the smug looks the girls are sharing with each other now either.

Embry's eyes darken slightly, his jaw twitches, and he looks away, scratching the back of his neck. "He's, uh, around here somewhere. He should be coming back soon."

"Hopefully not _too_ soon," one of the sluts says, causing the others to giggle. Embry throws a dark glance over his shoulder at her, and even though I'm not entirely sure what she means, a small ball of dread rolls in my stomach.

I look to Embry for clarification, but all he does is shake his head. "Why don't you hang out with me for a bit?" He throws his arm around my shoulders. "I'll buy you a Snickers or something."

"Thanks, but I don't have a lot of time and I really need to find Jake."

"You're hurting my feelings, Sweetheart. What does he have that I don't?"

I roll my eyes at his teasing.

"A motorcycle? Cause I can get one, but I'll tell you right now my momma won't like it."

"I'd hate to upset your momma."

"Me too. She'd-"

"Bella!" I twist around at the sound of my name, dropping Embry's arm from around my shoulders.

"Speaking of parents…" I mutter as my father comes barreling through the clusters of people.

His eyes narrow and flicker between Embry and myself. When he finally reaches me, he places his hand on my back and guff's out a short, "'S'cuse us."

"Dad!" I whine, my cheeks burning bright with embarrassment as my father drags me several feet away. I'm sure the slutty wolf fan club is just _loving_ this.

"I didn't know you and Edward broke up."

"We didn't."

He pointedly looks to the left, where I see Edward's parents walking across the track. "Then I doubt the Cullens care to see their son's girlfriend flirting with strangers. I know I don't."

I try not to roll my eyes and cross my arms like a petulant child. It kind of sucks knowing my dad's right, especially after I just told Angela a lie about being the 'good girlfriend.' I already know I'm the worst possible girlfriend _ever_; I don't want to be reminded of it.

"They're not strangers." I feel the need to add, "Edward knows them too."

That catches his attention, and not in such a positive way. "What do you mean? How do you know them?"

"We met them last week at the beach." Technically, I met them at the garage first, but I really don't think now's the time to explain the Mustang breaking down and Jake being my 'savior.' "Why?"

"I don't want to see you associating with those boys anymore."

"What?" Is he serious?

"They're delinquents, Bella. You're the chief's daughter, and Edward's the son of the most well-respected doctor in this town. I expect the two of you to hold higher standards when it comes to choosing your friends."

I can't believe he just said that. I don't even have a response. I just openly gape back at him.

"You might not always like it, but you're my daughter and you have a responsibility to…"

I know he's about to go into his normal spiel about how I'm an example to all the teenagers in this town and how I should take that into consideration before doing anything foolish. I've heard it all before, so I'm tuning him out now before I have to hear it all again. Besides, after the shock of it, I'm actually a bit pissed about his comments.

But something he said did catch my attention. I look past Charlie to Embry and Quil. They're not delinquents. Are they? Sure, they've all acted a bit suspiciously about their 'job,' and the conversations between them have been odd, but that doesn't mean they're doing anything _illegal_. Right?

I don't dwell on it any further because, at that moment, I see the missing brunette joining them. I hungrily take in every inch of her appearance, looking for a hair out of place, disheveled clothing, even the slightest swelling of her lips. I wish I were closer so I could examine her every detail like the CSI.

I vaguely note that my dad is still talking to me as I scan the area behind him for Jake. Has he been with the brunette? He didn't walk back to the group with her if he was. I don't see him anywhere. But if he was with her, where did they go? And more importantly, what did they _do_?

"I expect you to tell Edward this too. Do you hear me?"

I nod, and that seems to satisfy him enough as he gives a grunt of acknowledgement.

Patting me on the arm, he says, "I love you, kiddo. I just don't want you to get hurt."

"I know, Dad. I love you too."

I stand still, waiting for Charlie to walk far enough away that I can resume my search for Jake. Pivoting around to go the opposite direction of my father, I catch sight of Jake. He's leaning against the fence, no more than ten away, his arms are crossed over his chest and his eyes trained on me.

Quickly making sure no one's watching, I run to the gate's entrance and tilt my head in a _follow me_ fashion. Slipping through, I turn and trail the back wall of the stadium, continuing to the far end, where I know the storage unit is located. The space between the stadium and the school is dark, and although it's wide, it still reminds me of a dark alley. The stadium stands tall enough that it completely shadows the area, making it seem eerie and cold. Completing the look are a couple of dumpsters next to the school's doors. I can hear Jake's footfalls behind me as I cross to the storage unit and round the corner. Pressing my back against the door, my hand finds the doorknob, and I wait, perfectly poised for Jake as he comes around to face me.

He doesn't look as angry as before, and if it weren't for the hard set of his jaw, I'd almost say that he looks unamused or bored.

"What are we doing here, Princess?"

"I want to apologize for standing you up today. I won't do that again; I promise."

He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "You're not gonna listen to your father's warning?"

My expression switches from contrite to confused. I'm not sure what he means.

He smirks and shakes his head. "You weren't listening to a thing he said, were you?"

"Not really."

"You should've."

"He doesn't know you guys. He's just basing his opinions on appearance."

"Are you sure, Princess?"

_No. _

"He might be right."

"Is he?"

He chuckles darkly. "I'm not good. I'll only cause you trouble and pain. You should run while you still can."

Okay, I should probably do as he says. If he's giving me an out, the smartest thing is to take it. All the cheating, the lies, and the emotional turmoil I've gone through since the first day I met him flashes through my mind.

But it doesn't seem to matter.

"You already cause me trouble and pain, but I don't want to run."

He leans over me, his forearm resting on the door, his face inches from mine. He whispers, "Last chance."

I don't know how he expects me to think when he's standing so close to me. My mind is muddled, I can feel his breath on my lips, and all I want is to kiss him.

"I'm still here."

That's all it takes. His mouth is on mine, and his body presses me harder against the door. He kisses me like he's trying to force me to change my mind and at the same time asking me not to go. He bites down on my bottom lip, painfully hard. His hold on my hip grows tighter, his fingers curling into the fabric of my uniform and pulling me forward. He thrusts himself into me, but is he demanding more or just trying to scare me away?

My fingers loosen their grip on the doorknob, their every intention to thread their way into Jake's hair, when I realize why they were there in the first place.

Turning my head and pushing against his chest, I let out a breathless, "Wait."

Opening the door, I stumble back, momentarily unable to hold myself up without the support of it behind me. I grope blindly for the light string; it's a single bulb that barely glows, casting long shadows off the track equipment stacked inside.

Jake shuts the door behind him and gives me his wolfish grin that looks all too menacing in this poorly lit space. My good idea to hide out in here and talk suddenly feels like a very, very bad one.

"Is this the rest of your apology? You think fucking around in here is gonna make up for earlier?"

I blush; I hadn't thought of it that way. He must take my blush as confirmation because he stalks slowly forward. My legs automatically take a few steps back until they're bumping into a pile of hurdles, causing me to lose my balance and almost fall back. I twist around to catch myself and straighten back up only to find that he's an inch away from me. The toes of his boots are nearly flush to those of my sneakers.

"You're gonna have to do better, Princess. I waited in that closet for a long fucking time."

My mouth opens; I want to apologize again, but Jake's hand comes out and splays across my ribs, effectively stopping any words from forming in my mind.

"…thinking…" He roughly tugs me forward while I pull my shoulders back, arching away from him. His hungry eyes fall straight to my chest. "…of all things I was going to do to you."

I try to swallow, but my mouth has suddenly gone dry. My cheeks burn. Every inch of our lower halves are touching.

"I waited longer for you than I've ever waited for another girl."

"Jake, I-"

His eyes flash in warning as he cuts me off. "Let me guess: you had an attack of conscience? Ever the good girl, aren't you?"

"You don't und-"

"Was it worth it?"

I bite my lip and look up at him from under my lashes.

He laughs knowingly. "No, it wasn't. It was boring. And now you can't stop thinking about what you missed out on."

I don't really want to admit it, but he's right. I've imagined what could've happened in that closet a thousand times, though my imagination could never compete with the real thing.

"It's fucking torture, isn't it?" The soft timber of his voice and the feel of his fingers ghosting across my jaw have me instinctively leaning into his touch. My eyes drift closed as he bows his head closer to mine. "Not knowing…constantly wondering… thinking that if you have to wait one more minute you'll go fucking insane."

His fingers slide along my neck as he brushes my hair back, exposing the skin to his lips. His warm breath elicits a shiver from me as he whispers, "That's how you make me feel, Princess, and still, you let me wait for you."

He pulls back, and I immediately feel the loss of him. My fingers grip tightly into his jacket in an attempt to hold him to me.

"No," I whimper, "I'm sorry. Please…" I don't know what I'm asking for, but I need _something_.

"You want to know what I had planned for us?"

_Yes_. I enthusiastically nod.

"Say you want to." His hands move slowly around my waist as he dips his head down to kiss and nip my collarbone. He brushes his nose up the column of my neck. "Say the word, and maybe I'll show you everything you missed out on."

My breath catches as one of his hands slopes down, almost to my rear. The other moves slowly up my rib cage and back down to my skirt, dangerously close to the areas I shouldn't want them to be _but desperately do_.

"C'mon, Princess, tell me you've been thinking about this all day."

Think? Who can think when he's running his hands all over my body, tantalizing me by ignoring all the places I want them to go?

"Tell me you want me."

His hand slides down to my bare thigh, his hot fingers wrapping around it and hiking it up to his hip.

"I…yes." _Anything to stop this torment_.

He growls as his mouth attacks mine. His grip on my thigh grows stronger, and he picks me up higher. I let out a small squeak as I'm lifted off the ground. I have little choice but to wrap my legs around his waist while he turns us around. The next thing I know, we're falling onto the thick pole-vaulting mats piled up in the corner.

Practically tearing off his jacket, he tosses it to the side and thrusts his hand into my hair, his lips closing back onto mine. He tilts my head back the way he wants it, kissing me with wild abandon, and I can't get enough of it. My fingers curl into his hair, pulling him toward me with equal desire. Within seconds, my cheer top is scrunched up as high as it'll go, barely above my navel. I can sense his frustration as he's helpless to shove it up anymore.

He growls. "How the fuck do you even get this thing on?"

"Getting it on isn't the hard part. I usually need help to get it off though."

"Holy fuck," he groans, vigorously slamming his lips back on mine. I'm not sure what I said to illicit such a reaction from him. I'm being completely serious. Too many times, I've walked around the locker room begging for help with my arms stuck straight in the air with my top caught around my head and shoulders.

His teeth tug at my lip, effectively bringing my thoughts to a halt on anything other than him. I allow my passion to guide me as I trail kisses along his jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously against my lips. He sighs into my ear as his hand on my thigh slides beneath my skirt.

I could stop him. I probably should, but for some completely unknown reason, I don't want to.

Jake was right: I've obsessed about what I missed all day, and now that I'm finally able to find out, I'm nervous, I'm excited, and more than anything, I'm anxious for what happens next.

By the time his fingers reach the hem of my bloomers, I'm panting. He grips onto my upper thigh tightly, his body rocking slightly against mine as he kisses my pulse. My heart is pounding so hard in my chest I'm sure he can feel it, while my hands are clutching at his shirt with nervous anticipation. I feel like if he doesn't do something soon I'm going to cry. Then, in the most subtle way, his thumb lifts away from my inner thigh and brushes against my center. My eyes widen, and I let out a loud gasp as a sensation that I've never felt before rushes forward, sending tingles throughout my entire body.

_What in the world was that?_ _He barely even touched me!_

He presses a little harder, and this time, it's more than just his thumb. His fingers rub against my most sensitive and private area, and it's causing the best (and strangest) reaction within me. I don't think it's possible for me to squeeze onto his arm any tighter than I already am, but as I feel him hook a single finger under the hem of my bloomers, I swear I could crush steel.

Jake pulls back, his finger barely sliding up and down between two pieces of fabric. "What's this? Are you wearing two pairs of underwear?"

I laugh. It sounds slightly hysterical, but it feels so good to relieve some of my nervous energy.

"I have to wear bloomers with my uniform. They go on over…" I'm not sure that I feel comfortable saying the word _panties_ to him, especially since we're talking about the pair that his finger is currently touching.

He gives me a knavish smile as he quickly twists the fabric, his finger diving beneath both bloomers and panties and causing me to gasp at the sudden skin on skin contact.

My eyes are wide and my teeth digging into my bottom lip while he smirks down at me. His finger makes a slow track up and down, and I fist my hands in his shirt again, my body going slightly tense but at the same time feeling ridiculously light.

When the pad of his finger touches the wetness, I mentally cringe. Does he think it's gross to touch? It seems gross to me.

It feels weird and not necessarily good as he slides his now wet finger up and touches – _oh_.

My eyes close automatically, and my lips part. He kisses me lightly, and I feel his breath on my lips as he adds a few more fingers beneath my panties.

My thoughts are overruled by the intense sensations flowing through me. My head falls back, and Jake begins to kiss my elongated neck while my breathing becomes labored. I start to moan, but I try to hold it in because I feel like that would be too wanton. I end up whimpering instead. I momentarily think that I should be embarrassed about the noise, but then something happens deep within me. My muscles are tightening, and there's a coiling sensation building inside and waiting to burst. My thighs start shaking. _Why are my thighs shaking_?

He kisses beneath my ear and whispers so quietly I'm not sure I'm supposed to hear, "You're so fucking beautiful."

Then it happens: my every muscle tenses as something explodes inside me, sending shockwave after shockwave of sheer pleasure throughout my entire body.

My hands fall to my sides. I feel boneless and elated. I can't seem to stop myself from giggling. _That was amazing_. Why haven't I ever done it before now?

Jake runs the tip of his thumb over my forehead and down the side of me cheek as he hovers over me, a small smile playing at his lips.

"What'd you think, Princess?"

"That was…_wow_."

He laughs at my answer, and my cheeks flame. Seriously? I'm blushing _now_?

He kisses me softly on the cheek. "I keep my promises."

A loud buzzer goes off in the distance, and I'm instantly slapped back into the reality of what goes on outside of this little shed.

"Oh my God, the game! I'm late!" I bolt upright, shoving Jake off me as I stand up and straighten my clothes. "Miss Davenport is going to kill me!"

My hand is on the door when an arm wraps around my waist and a warm body presses against my back, holding me prisoner in a solid embrace. Something hard pushes against my lower back, and I wonder if it's the pocketknife I've seen him use before. Jake's lips move against my ear, and I can't help but melt into him.

"You're running out on me? After everything we just shared?" He tsks, while I know he's teasing, I still feel bad for leaving.

"I have to."

"You're already late; what's a few more minutes?"

"The longer I'm gone, the more trouble I'll be in. I need to go." I say it, but I make no move to actually leave.

"I think you're using me for your own _pleasure_."

He's goading me, and even though I can't see him, I know he's smiling. He'll never let me forget this. Not that I want to anyway; it was _unbelievable_.

I turn in his arms, my hands coming up to rest on his shoulders as I mischievously ask, "Is that a problem?"

"Fuck no."

Stretching up, I brush my lips against his as a brief good-bye, though he'll have none of it. He pulls me in tighter, pressing our bodies closer together as he deepens the kiss to his liking. He's taking his time, leisurely sweeping his tongue over mine. I think he's doing it on purpose, trying to see how long it'll take before I pull away and run back to the game. I give him a few more seconds before doing just that.

Halfway out the door, I turn my head back to look at him and smile.

"Don't forget, Princess. I always keep my promises. Your second orgasm belongs to me."

A thrill shoots through me as the memory comes back. _You'll experience your first orgasm at __my__ hands…your second on my tongue._

He winks just as he did last week, and I'm out the door running before I can think about the implications of it. Racing around the shed and down the dark corridor, I'm about to turn the corner of the stadium, right outside of the gate, when a petite figure flies out, nearly crashing into me.

"Bella!" Alice shouts at me, her feathered shako tucked beneath one arm. "Where have you been? I've been looking all over for you! The second half already started!"

"I- uh…I had to-"

"Is that Jacob Black?" she asks, looking past me. I don't need to look back to know it's him. I can imagine him sauntering around the corner of the shed. I'm immediately thankful that Alice didn't catch me coming out of there first. For appearances' sake, I try to look confused and start to glance back, but Alice grabs my arm.

"Nevermind, let's go!"

-~BoM~-

Angela's squeezing my hand, both of us bouncing on our toes with excitement and nerves. Our team is on the three-yard line with only seconds left on the clock. We're sure they'll be able to push through Sequim's defenses, but, along with the crowd, we're on the edge of our seat (figuratively speaking, that is). The purple and gold jerseys collide together, and I don't even know or care who makes the touchdown because when the referee raises his arms over his head, we're sprinting out onto the field.

I run straight into Edward's arms to congratulate him. His gear is solid as a rock, covered in grass stains and soaked with his sweat, but none of that matters when he lifts me up and spins us around.

Tucking me into his side, he joins his team in the end zone. Circled together, they lift their helmets into the air and chant the school fight song. I'm smiling and yelling along with them. Ever since I came back from half time, I've had an extra bounce in my step. I've felt lighter and happier - almost giddy. It isn't until I glance up and see Edward lovingly grinning down at me that a jolt of guilt shoots through me.

I spend the next twenty minutes worrying if anyone can tell what I did with Jake. Is it written all over my face? _I had an orgasm. _

My cheeks redden at the thought. Great, if they couldn't read me before, they'll be able to now._ Way to make yourself obvious, Bella!_

When I joined the girls in formation ten minutes late, I gave the flimsiest excuse that I unexpectedly started my monthly cycle and had to run out to my car to get feminine products. To which Jessica responded, _That explains your mood swings_. I shrugged her off, thankful that none of them realized the biggest flaw in my lie: _I didn't drive_.

Sometimes, I'm amazed at how easily everyone believes me.

So far, I've successfully evaded Miss Davenport. I know she'd never reprimand me in front of an audience, so I stay close to Edward, fake-smiling to everyone who pats him on the back to congratulate him and trying my hardest not to think about what I did in the shed with someone who wasn't him. I can only deal with one guilt trip at a time, and right now, I think cheating trumps tardiness. Miss Davenport will just have to wait until Monday to give me a lecture.

Nearly everyone has left except Edward's parents and Charlie. The other football players went back to the locker rooms to change about ten minutes ago. I try to ignore the knot in my stomach, my hands anxiously wringing together as Mrs. Cullen tells me how great I was during the cheerleading routine. I'm extremely grateful when Charlie interrupts us, asking if I plan on riding with Edward. Nodding, I tell him that we'll be meeting our friends for pizza and I'll be home by curfew.

Our parents finally leave, and Edward wastes no times in monopolizing our first moment alone by kissing me soundly. It's soft, sweet, and gentle.

It makes me want to cry.

Gently, I push him back. "All right, go wash up. I'll wait for you by the car."

"I'll hurry." He quickly pecks my lips once more before we go our separate ways.

The parking lot is virtually empty, and aside from a few cars left over, there's no one else around. Dropping my cheer bag at my feet, I close my eyes, wrap my arms tighter around myself, and lean against Edward's Volvo. The night has gotten colder, and now that I'm not running around, the chill is starting to get to me.

"Cold, Sweetheart?"

I instantly jump upright and turn toward the voice. Embry, Jake, and Quil are stalking toward me. My eyes shift straight to Jake's. My heart pounds away in my chest as color fills my cheeks.

Jake, of course, smirks at my reaction. "I'm sure I could warm you up if you're cold, Princess."

"No!" I nearly shout. Embry's lips curve up, and Jake's eyebrows furrow. "I mean, I'm fine."

"What are you doing out here by yourself, Sweetheart? Do you need a ride?"

Jake cuts an angry look at Embry. "If she needs a ride, I'll be the one to give it to her."

Quil snorts a laugh, and then the other two boys start to smile. I have no idea what's so funny.

"Um, no. I'm just waiting for Edward."

Jake retorts, "Ditch him. Come out with us."

"What? No, I can't do that."

"Could if you wanted to."

A thought strikes me. I wonder if they have a 'job' tonight. "Where are you going?"

"Change your mind?"

"Well, how do I know if I want to go with you if I don't know where you're going?"

Embry answers, "We'll probably end up back at the garage. Don't think my eye's healed up enough to take on another party."

"So…no job tonight?"

Quil darts a look at his friends, Embry shifts his weight uncomfortably, and Jake stands perfectly still.

"Nah, Princess, we don't work late every weekend."

I want to make some sarcastic reply, but I think better of it. The reaction from Quil and Embry is enough to know that I shouldn't have asked in the first place.

"Uh oh," Quil snickers, "the boyfriend's coming. He looks angry."

_Oh no._

Edward walks swiftly up to me, immediately dropping his duffle bag and sliding his arm around my waist. He offers a curt nod and hello as he pulls me in closer. I have to brace my hand on his chest to keep myself centered.

Jake's expression hardens, and his hands form fists at his sides.

Embry eyes Edward speculatively while sarcasm tones his words. "Better hang on to her tight. She might get away."

Edward cups my hand on his chest. "Seems to me like this is where she wants to be."

"She just doesn't know her options yet." Embry shoots me a smile, and I'm honestly a little startled. _What does that mean?_

"She's got all the options she needs," Jake snaps back.

"I think it's safe to say that Bella is perfectly happy with me." Edward squeezes my hand. "She knows that I'd do anything to please her."

"What do you think, Princess?" I don't like the expression on Jake's face as he leers at me. "Can he _please_ you like I can?"

My heart feels like it's stopped, and even though I want to scream at him for what he said, I'm unable to form any words that aren't strictly name-calling.

Edward continues to glare at Jake as he unwraps my arms from around him and pushes me gently towards the Volvo. "Get in the car, Bella. We're leaving."

"Worried she'll agree with me?"

"She's not interested in being your one night stand."

"Maybe not tonight."

Edward lunges forward. His instinctive reaction is to defend me; mine is to latch onto his arm quickly and hold him back. I'm not strong enough to physically keep him, but my presence is enough. He stops, though every muscle in his body remains tightly wound.

"You will _never_ have her."

"I _bet_ that I will." Jake takes a step closer, a sinister smile playing on his lips. "I'm already closer to having her than you are. She-"

"Stop!" I scream at him before he can say anything else. I have this horrible feeling that Jake's about to give us away, which leads to the image of Edward taking a swing, a fight breaking out, and worst of all, Edward leaving me.

Pushing myself between the two boys, I place both hands on Edward's chest and plead into his eyes. "Let's go. Please? I want to go."

Just as he said, Edward will never deny me anything. He allows me to push him back toward the driver's side door but doesn't get in. He tosses our bags into the back and watches carefully as I round to the other side. My heart hurts, and my hand is shaking as it reaches for the door handle, a hundred questions racing through my mind. _Did Edward catch the hidden meanings behind Jake's careless words? Did Jake mean what he said? Does he only see me as a conquest? Am I just another number to him? _ My gaze lifts to Quil first then Embry. I'm hesitant to find Jake's eyes, afraid of finding the answers to my questions there. So I don't; I lock my eyes on his friend instead.

"Good bye, Embry, Quil."

Quil gives me a half wave, but Embry gives me a sympathetic look. "Take care of yourself, Sweetheart."

Nodding, I open the door, and I hear Edward doing the same. The next thing I know, Jake's hand is on the doorframe, holding it open at the same time the slam of the driver's side echoes through the quiet night. I throw Edward a look, asking him to stay there – telling him that I can handle this. Though I'm not sure that I can.

Jake's voice is low, not loud enough for anyone but me to hear. "Not gonna say goodbye to me, Princess?"

"Goodbye, Jake."

"Offer still stands. You can ditch him - stay with me."

My heart clenches as I shake my head. "I won't do that to him. He deserves so much more from me."

He scoffs.

"I'll see you at school."

Sliding into my seat, I avoid looking at Jake even as I hear him swear and slam my door shut. As we drive away, Edward slips his hand into mine, and I hold onto it tightly. With him, I know I'm not a one night stand, a conquest, or a bet. With Edward, I'm wanted – I'm _loved_ for simply being me.

I don't know any of that with Jake.

* * *

**_A/N:_**I apologize that it takes me so long to update, but as always, I promise that I will not give up on this story. I know exactly where I want it to go and plan on getting us there eventually. Also, I want to let you know that I _greatly_ appreciate all of you who leave reviews, send messages, and otherwise let me know how much you enjoy BoM. I may not always get the chance to reply but I give you many, many hugs! :-)

So, let me know what you think. Do you think Jake did anything with that Sequim girl? Did you swoon over Embry? Love and hate Charlie? Feel badly for Edward? And how about that confrontational ending?

As always HUGE thanks to Jkane180 for her amazing beta skills and her extreme patience with me. (I'm positive that I"m annoying regardless of how many times she tells me differently.) Great big hugs also go to Evermine for prereading and helping me sort out my thoughts. Love you ladies!

*hugs*


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Edward and I barely have time to sit down with our lunch trays before the table breaks out into a chorus of "Happy birthday, Bella." I should have been expecting it, but I honestly hoped that the streamers and balloons hung on my locker would be all the notice my birthday received. Unfortunately, my group of friends love to celebrate – _loudly_.

I try to hide my embarrassment with a curtain of hair, but it does little to cover my heated cheeks. Lauren offers me a smile and slightly sympathetic look as if she understands how I'm feeling, and I have to fight to control my facial features lest they give away my blatant dislike of the girl. Her backstabbing tendencies have her on my constant watch list ever since that dreadful morning three weeks ago when I found out she tried to steal my boyfriend. It's amazing how I used to think of her as a kind-of-friend, and now I see that the only person she's loyal to is Jessica.

"So," Alice starts in, leaning forward with her elbows on the table, "since tomorrow's away game is going to be in Rainier that pretty much just leaves Saturday to celebrate your birthday."

I nod. The drive to Rainier is three and a half hours, not including stops on the way. Last Friday's game was in Toledo, and we didn't get home until nearly two a.m. Luckily, (or unluckily, depending on how you look at it) the school won't allow the cheerleaders to ride with the football players, which means we get an entire bus for ourselves and plenty of space to lay down on the way back. I sneak a glance at Lauren, doubly grateful that the dance team doesn't travel to away games.

Alice continues, "We thought it would be fun to go to Port Angeles for the concert on the pier. What do you think?"

"That sounds great, but we don't have to go to celebrate my birthday. I mean, we can go just for fun."

Alice and Angela make matching _pssh_ sounds.

"Please, Bella," Jessica playfully rolls her eyes in a 'duh' fashion. "We're going for _both_ reasons. And just so you know, if I can get the band to pull you on stage and sing happy birthday, I will."

"Jess-" I start, and I must look suitably terrified because everyone laughs while Edward places a comforting hand on my knee.

"I'm just kidding!"

I can't tell if she is though.

Edward sweetly kisses me on the cheek. Letting his lips linger near my ear, he speaks softly, "Can I take you to dinner Saturday?"

There's a stupidly wide grin on my face as I nod. When Edward picked me up for school this morning, he gave me a small present: an alarm clock. I laughed and told him I'd add it to my collection. Then he told me he had more planned and he'd give me my _real_ gift later.

"I was thinking we could go to Port Angeles early and eat at Bella Italia before we meet everyone at the Pier." He pulls back slightly, waiting on my answer, though he's still intimately close to me.

"That sounds perfect."

His brightening smile causes my heart to beat faster as he continues conversationally, "Since I'll be fighting for your attention this weekend, I'll have to make every moment we have alone count."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how Rosalie likes to steal you away from me-"

My arms immediately find their way around his neck, cutting his sentence short as I hug him and squeal into his ear.

"Rose is coming home?"

I haven't seen Rose since she left for college nearly a month ago, and I've missed her terribly. Cheerleading hasn't been the same without her there bossing everyone around and pushing us harder. Besides Jessica and Angela, she was my closest friend on the squad.

Edward laughs. "Tomorrow, so you probably won't see her until Saturday, but she's excited to see you too. She didn't want to miss your birthday."

For the rest of the lunch period, I couldn't wipe the smile off my face if I tried.

-~BoM~-

The rest of my afternoon remains uneventful and, quite frankly, boring. I'm sitting in weight lifting class, two ten pound dumbbells in each hand, while Jessica sits on my right, grimacing at her nails and grumbling about needing a manicure. She hasn't lifted a single weight all hour.

Jake is on the opposite side of the room, lying back on a bench with probably three hundred pounds above his chest. His stout muscles bulge beneath his t-shirt, rippling with each repetition. His brows furrow in concentration, and his lips part each time he lowers the bar to his toned chest. _Okay, look away now, Bella_.

Jake has barely spoken to me these past two weeks. When he does, it's typically a snide comment during one of our many classes together, but for the most part, he ignores me completely. I should be grateful that he's backed off after the way he acted at the game, but instead, I'm left with a hollow feeling in my gut. Part of me wonders if what we did together in the shed meant anything to him at all or if I really was just like every other girl.

_Of course you're like every other girl_, my rude inner voice spits, _Don't you think he would've spoken to you by now if you weren't?_

Is it so wrong of me to hope otherwise?

_Yes_, it reiterates, _You're just a bet._

A bet that he's somehow managing to gain momentum in pulling his way. He's succeeded further than I ever thought I he could – further than I thought I'd allow! I can still imagine his hand on me that night, the intimate way that he touched me, kissed me, and made me – _oh_. And that promise for more? It's kept me up at night. Not to mention all the times I've caught myself staring at his lips, imagining them on my skin again, hoping to catch a glimpse of his tongue as I wonder what it would feel like for him to…

This boy is seriously messing with my mind. I simultaneously want him to make good on his promise at the same time that I never want him to mention it again.

I shouldn't want it.

_I do_.

_But I __shouldn't_.

"Bella Swan?" I jump, heat flooding my face as I turn around at the call of my name. A small body - presumably a boy's from the sound of the voice, though it's difficult to tell as it's being obscured from view by a large bouquet of white roses.

To my mortification, Jessica squeals beside me, alerting the class to the stranger with a massive arrangement of flowers calling out my name again. Jessica shoves at me, a huge smile on her face while she's pushing me to stand.

"Ri-right here." I wave awkwardly and take the extremely heavy display from the young man. "Thanks."

"Oh my gosh, Bella these are gorgeous!" She gushes, and I set them down on the bench. She hip checks me as she asks slyly, "Are they from a certain sexy boy-toy?"

I feel him moving up behind me even before his husky voice reaches my ears. "Let me guess: lame ass month-a-versary present from the boyfriend? Celebrating that he got to feel you up?"

"It's her birthday, jackass," Jessica snaps.

Jake raises his eyebrow while I look at her with a mixture of awe and surprise. I can't believe she spoke to him like that!

She scoffs, "What? You think I'm going to be nice to him after the way he treated Lauren?"

Oh, right._ Lauren._

Jake smirks. "Jealous?"

It's obviously the wrong thing to say because Jessica's cheeks turn red, and I think she's about two seconds away from slapping him. Which, I know from experience, is a really bad idea. _Been there. Done that_.

"It's my birthday!" I interrupt lamely and not nearly as peppy as I'd intended, but as far as distractions go, it seems to do its job. Jess's eyes land on mine, a tight smile gracing her features as she says, "Yeah, babe. And look! Seventeen roses for your seventeenth. Isn't that clever?"

"More like predictable.."

"I don't remember asking for your opinion." Jessica flips her hair and lands another glare on Jacob. _I should be taking notes: How to Stand-Up to Jake 101 by Jessica Stanley._ "What would you know about romance anyway? At least our boyfriends know how to keep a girl satisfied longer than one night."

I clear my throat awkwardly. "Jess, they're from my dad."

"Oh." She looks slightly dejected as she huffs a breath through her nose and plops back down on the bench.

Jake takes a step towards me, his fingers stretching out to flick at one of the roses. "This all? Where's the new car?"

I blink at him, stung by the comment until I notice the softness around his eyes. I don't think he meant it to be a biting remark.

"Guess there isn't one."

"Too bad. I heard there's a decent pickup at the junkyard."

I'm highly conscious of Jessica sitting two feet away. She may not be looking at us, but I have no doubt in my mind that she's listening intently. So I don't say what I want to - that I don't think he's being fair to Charlie, who woke me up this morning to a fresh baked cinnamon roll with a candle in the middle - a tradition we've had since I was eight. He'll also be waiting for me at home with a birthday cake and a card with fifty dollars inside.

I could've told Charlie that I liked the truck more than the Mustang last year, but I didn't. I lost it because I was too afraid of disappointing him. Jake was the only person I've ever told his to, and since that night, I've wondered if perhaps the bitterness I have isn't directed at my dad but at myself because when Jake said, _You sacrificed your own happiness because you thought it's what you _should_ do?_ he was right.

Maybe Charlie's motives for buying the Mustang last year weren't completely selfless, but he couldn't have thought what he was doing was a bad thing. I know that my dad can be a bit of a social climber and he's set in his ways, but he's still my dad. He's the only family I have, and I love him.

However, I really loved that truck, too.

"Yeah,' I answer sadly. "Doubt it's still there though."

Jessica tips her head back to give me a confused look, as if to say _Seriously?_

The corners of Jake's mouth tip up. "Maybe next year then?"

I shake my head in response though Jake doesn't seem to be paying much attention as he's taking a step back with his eyes on the roses, glaring at them as though they've offended his grandmother before turning around and heading back to his bench press.

-~BoM~-

My fingers continuously reach for the diamond teardrop necklace, reassuring myself that it's still there. Edward's arms wrap tighter around my middle, his cheek pressing against my temple as I lay my head back against his chest and we gently rock to the beat of the music.

Dinner was perfect. The restaurant's romantic atmosphere has us both in compassionate moods. Edward has been attentive all evening, either holding my hand or giving me the slightest of touches to let me know how much he cares. After dinner, he gave me my _real_ birthday present. One that I felt was entirely too much, but he assured me wasn't. The teardrop necklace is small and understated but still beautiful. It suits me perfectly.

Rose stands next to us, swaying and mouthing along to the music. Mike has an arm slung around Jessica, Lauren's on her other side, and Angela, Ben, and Alice share a blanket at our feet.

About a half an hour into the concert, the sun begins to set behind the trees, and my long sleeves no longer seem to be enough to keep me warm. Burrowing further into Edward's chest, I grip onto the lapels of his jacket and attempt to cover my arms with it.

"Cold?" His warm breath flows over my neck, causing a chill to sweep through me. I nod in response, trying to hide further into his embrace.

"Here." He pulls away, the cold air immediately taking hold of me where his warmth was. Shrugging off his navy blue letterman's jacket, he drapes it around my shoulders.

"Now you'll be cold," I whine, but I don't dare take it off. Besides, there's something about wearing his jacket that's just... _nice_.

"I'll be fine. I _want_ you to wear it." There's an intensity in his eyes that I can't explain as he looks at me in his oversized jacket.

"Thank you, but if you get cold, just tell me and I-"

"I'm fine, babe. I have this." He points to the zip-up hoodie he had on underneath.

"Well, I'm freezing," Rosalie interrupts, "Come with me to get my coat."

She doesn't wait on an answer before she's hooking our arms together and pulling me along.

"I'll just wait right here then," Edward sarcastically shouts at his sister. I laugh and send an apologetic smile over my shoulder as I'm dragged away.

"So," Rose begins, "you and my brother are still going strong, I see."

The cheerfulness I felt begins to abate, and though I don't feel like doing it, I force a smile and joke, "Is that smugness I detect in your voice?"

It sounds wrong even to my own ears. Rose sweeps a sideways glance at me. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just…" Strong isn't exactly the word I'd use. Edward's obliviousness and my selfish determination to hold on to the boy who loves me whole-heartedly by ensuring he stays in the dark about my secret trysts with another guy doesn't exactly scream _strong _to me. "…He loves me so much."

Her eyes are sympathetic as she supplies, "It's a bit overwhelming?"

_If she only knew. _"Yeah."

She nods and doesn't push the subject anymore. Walking all the way out to the parking lot takes a while, but it gives us plenty of time to change the subject to a more lighthearted subject: Rose's latest crush.

"He's a teddy bear. I mean, he's big and muscular and oh, _so_ handsome, but he's such a softie. He's sweeter than any guy I've ever been with."

"Does that include me?" The deep and familiar voice comes from behind us. Spinning around, we come face to face with-

"_Paul,_" Rosalie gasps.

"Hi, Rose."

My mouth unattractively falls open.

He tacks on the greeting, causing my jaw to snap closed. "Bella."

Okay, less shocked that he remembers my name, more shocked that he knows Rosalie. How does Paul_ - Jake's brother Paul! - _know Rosalie? Are they friends?Moreover, what does she - _my boyfriend's sister_ - know about Jake?

Have I mentioned that at this very moment I am _completely freaking out _on the inside?

Paul's eyes only stray to mine for moment before returning to Rose. He shifts uncomfortably. "How've you been?"

His normally piercing eyes are subdued, his typical grimace is pulled up instead of down, and his usual intimidation is replaced with unease. It's the most civil I've ever seen him, and I can't help but think this is some kind of anomaly that I'm witnessing. Wondering if Rosalie is noticing it too, I glance at her. I don't know if her shocked expression means she's thinking the same or if there's something more going on here.

Her mouth opens and closes once in a daze, but she quickly snaps out of it. Her features harden as she pops a hand on her hip. "Fine. And you? I see they let you out of jail."

My eyes widen of their own accord, and I have to bite my lip to keep from saying something stupid like loudly repeating, _You were in jail?_

He has the decency to look ashamed, but it only lasts a second as it quickly shifts to anger. He's exactly like his brother that way (or is his brother exactly like him?).

"Yeah, it was sweet of you visit me."

"Visit you?" she screeches, "I didn't even know you were arrested until Charlie Swan questioned me! Do you have any idea how _embarrassed_ I was or how _stupid_ I felt?"

He flinches and runs his hands through his hair, his anger deflating. "I'm sorry-"

"No, I don't want your apology! It's too late."

"Don't say that, Rose! I've thought about you every day since then! Fuck, the moment I could, I tried to find you. I wanted to tell you how I felt about you!"

"How is that, Paul? Because all I remember is you running out on me over and over again for work. Then the next thing I know I'm getting called down to the police station and questioned like some kind of criminal!" Rosalie's voice cracks, and her eyes are filled with tears. It's the most vulnerable I've ever seen her.

"Rose, Baby, I-… " Paul takes a step toward her, his hand raised like he's reaching to comfort her, but at the last moment, he closes his fingers into a fist. "…I didn't want you to know what I was doing. I thought if I was caught I could keep you out of it by not telling you anything. I didn't know some prick was going to fuck that up by saying you were my girl."

_His girl?_ Oh wow, I didn't see that coming. I mean, I could've guessed from the way their conversation was going they had some sort of relationship, but I kept thinking it had to be something else. I've known Rose the past few years, and she _never_ mentioned a boyfriend named Paul.

"Well, they did." Fire returns to her voice. "And now I know what you were really doing when you left me cold and alone in the middle of the night!"

"It's not like I wanted to leave you! I fucking loved you, Rose!"

We both gasp at his admission. My eyes dart back and forth between them while Rosalie keeps her hand pressed to her lips, two tears falling from her thick lashes.

A warm arm wraps around my waist and tugs me back. "Why don't we give these two some privacy, huh, Princess?"

"But they're- I- _But they_-"

"Don't need an audience," he substitutes for me.

Yeah, okay, Jake's right. _Jake!_ Spinning around, I face him. "What are you doing here?"

"Same as you, Princess. Came for the music."

"Oh, right." What was I thinking? That he came here specifically for me? _Not everything revolves around you, Bella. _

He leads me with one hand on the small of my back until we're at the end of the parking lot and the edge of the concert's crowd. I glance back over my shoulder to where Rosalie and Paul are standing. They're a few car lengths away, Rose's back is to me, and I can't decide if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I want to know if she's doing okay with Paul on her own, but on the other hand, she's so preoccupied she won't see me with Jake.

When I turn back around, Jake's eyes are narrowed, scrutinizing my appearance.

"The fuck's that?"

Confused, I look down at myself. "What?"

He reaches out and flips the lapel of the jacket right next to the large letter F. "This…" he shakes his head angrily, "doesn't suit you."

"Well," _I know it's a little large but it's not that bad, right?_ "it's not mine."

"No shit. Pretty sure your name isn't Cullen."

My cheeks flush as I pull the jacket tighter around me, suddenly feeling colder.

"Didn't think you'd let the guy brand you."

"He didn't brand me."

"You're wearing his name."

"So?"

He clenches his fists. "He put a stamp on your back that says you belong to him."

"It's not like that! I was cold, and he gave me his jacket."

"Sounds very convenient."

"He's my boyfriend. He was being sweet. Are you telling me if I were cold you wouldn't give me your jacket?"

He scowls. "Fuck, no."

"Right, how stupid of me. I forgot I'm nothing more than a _bet_ to you."

His expression clears, and I can tell he wasn't expecting that outburst anymore than I was. It only takes half a second for his hostility to return. "You knew that going into this, Princess."

Fighting off the lump in my throat, I shake my head, cross my arms over my chest, and turn. As I walk away, I hear him growl, "_Christ,"_ sounding thoroughly annoyed. It makes me feel that much worse.

God, what is the matter with me? Why do I even feel like crying over this? He only confirmed what I already knew. Had I really expected him to deny it? If so, I was fooling myself. To think I'd ever mean more to him is laughable. Hell, his precious _bike_ is probably the only reason he's put up with me this long. That and maybe his pride.

Rose is still standing between the two cars where I left her, except now, she's alone. Furiously blinking the tears back, I round the vehicle to join her, glancing around to see that Paul is long gone. Rosalie quickly adopts a façade when she notices me, but her nose and cheeks are pink, her eyelashes still wet, giving her carefully veiled smile away.

She feigns haughtiness. "God, Bella, I'm really sorry about that."

"No, don't worry about it. It seemed…personal."

"It was." She nods, and her eyes water once again. "Dammit." She swipes angrily at her cheeks while inhaling deeply.

"Rose-"

"Would you hate me if I went home? I think-" she takes a shuddering breath, "I need to go home. I promise I'll come over tomorrow. I just - I can't stay here."

"No, I don't mind. But…are you going to be okay?"

She hiccups. "I didn't think I'd run into him. I h-hoped I wouldn't run into him _ever-_"

Her words are slurred with her tears, which are coming faster and harder now. I wrap my arm around her waist, quickly leading her to the car and ushering her in. By the time I get in the passenger seat, she's draped over the steering wheel letting out everything she's been suppressing. After a few minutes of rubbing her back, she composes herself enough that I start digging through the glove box until I find a wad of napkins and pass them to her.

"Thank you. I'm sorry, Bella. I'm fine now. You should go back to the concert. Enjoy the rest of your birthday."

"No, I'll go back in a little while. Don't worry about me."

She lowers the visor and wipes away the smeared black beneath her eyes. A tiny pang of envy shoots through me that she can still look radiant even after crying. Whenever I cry, it's all tears and snot and red-blotchy spots on my otherwise pale skin – it's not pretty.

"So," I start out hesitantly, "do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really." She smiles ruefully. "But I kind of owe you an explanation, don't I?"

"You don't-"

"No, it's fine." Flipping the visor back to its original position, she sighs and looks over at me. "I guess, Paul and I kind of…broke up."

"What?" My head is spinning. They_ broke up? _They weretogether_ still? He just said he loved her!_

"It was overdue. We never _actually_ broke it off before because he was…" she swallows and looks down at her fingers, "…arrested…and then in jail. I just assumed that the distance and silence was enough of a break up. I guess it wasn't for him."

It takes me a moment to piece together an articulate response. "When did you– I mean, how did you…" Or at least, I _try_ to. Choosing my words has never been so difficult. I don't want to sound like I'm judging her or pressuring for more information, but _come on_, I'm gonna need more to go on than just that! "Maybe you should start from the beginning?"

"Okay," Rose takes a shallow breath, "I met him at _Sticks_, a shady little pool hall here in Port Angeles. It was…well, you remember last fall, when my dad kept throwing college applications at me and constantly pressuring me to take on more responsibilities to," she deepens her voice to mimic her father, "_better my chances at Ivy League_?"

I nod because I do remember that. Dr. Cullen would bring up Rosalie's future at almost every meal, asking if she'd finished her application essay for early admission. He pushed her to join more clubs to add diversity, his suggestions usually ridiculous (Seriously, like Rose would be caught dead in AV Club). But surprisingly, she listened and added more to her already busy schedule. Most days, she wouldn't get home until after nine because she was running herself ragged trying to keep up with Cheerleading, Yearbook, Poetry Club, Spanish Club, DECA, and so many more I can't even recall. She was beyond stressed at the time, but eventually, as the months went, by she had calmed down. I assumed she had acclimated and found order to the chaos, but I'm starting to think I may have been wrong.

Rosalie trains her eyes on the car in front of us as she continues, "He wouldn't _stop_. I just got to the point where I couldn't stand it anymore. I didn't want to waste my senior year narrowing down colleges and writing _stupid_ essays and adding countless hours of community service to a resume that I didn't care about anyway! I was working my ass off because _nothing_ under a hundred percent was good enough." She scoffs. "Not even being Homecoming Queen. Apparently popularity votes mean nothing to _Ivy League_."

She rolls her eyes while I think back to how happy she was when she won last year. She was literally beaming, and honestly, no one deserved the title more because Rose knew _everyone_ in school. She practically ruled Forks High with her clubs, grades, (and let's face it) beauty. Girls wanted to be her and guys would kill to _talk_ to her. She was always so haughty that I had no idea that she was ever unhappy.

"I was tired of being _perfect_." The words are whispered and broken. Her lips turn down fractionally. "That's how I found Paul."

"At _Sticks_."

She shrugs. "I heard they didn't card at their bar. I wanted to- to- I don't know, lash out or something. So I talked Vera into going one night."

This doesn't surprise me at all. Vera's been Rose's best friend since childhood; they're the same age and grew up together as neighbors. She'd follow her anywhere, so it's no wonder that she'd go along with anything Rose suggested, even if that meant sneaking into a hole-in-the-wall pool hall with who knows what kind of inhabitants.

After a moment of silence, I prod further, "And you met Paul?"

"I met Paul," she repeats solemnly. "He terrified Vera. But, God, I was ridiculously attracted to him. He was everything that I was looking for: abrasive, uncouth, rude, and…" she smiles dreamily, "…demanding."

_Demanding?_

"We met up at _Sticks_ for a while but eventually started coming up with some more _creative_ places to, um, fool around." I swear there's a hint of a blush on her cheeks while full-blown red coats mine. _Oh, that's what she means by demanding_. "When his boss caught us in his office at the auto shop, he offered to let us use his cabin for privacy."

"You mean you…" I trailed off, leaving the unspoken question in the air.

"Yeah," she breathes.

"But you said you were waiting for-" I stupidly gasp, not realizing until I say it aloud. "You love him."

She nods, her lips pursing as she's trying not to cry again.

_Wow_. Rosalie not only had a boyfriend that I had no idea existed, but she also fell in love with and lost her virginity to him months ago. Do I know this girl in front of me _at all?_

"I was different with him, Bella. He made me feel…free or something. When I was with him, I got to be _me_. Not some perfect imitation of the girl I was supposed to be." A wistful smile crosses her features, and I find myself mirroring it until she pinches her brows together, her thoughts leading her somewhere else.

"God, I was so stupid! We had this like, unspoken rule that we never talked about our personal lives. I was so concerned with hiding my own secrets that I was blind to his." She begins talking in earnest, her words tumbling out quickly. "The first time we were together, I woke up in the middle of the night alone. I was _devastated_. I thought he was just using me and left when he got what he wanted, but right as I was changing, he came back – fully dressed so I knew he had left. I was so angry and hurt that I started screaming at him. We had this explosive fight, and then he was suddenly kissing me, tearing off our clothes, and pushing me back onto the bed-" She turns to me, suddenly startled by the extent of what she's sharing. "Sorry."

"No! It-it's fine. What happened next?" I blush furiously. "Wait- no- that's not what I meant. I _mean_, did you find out where he went?"

"Not exactly. I was a little," she laughs humorlessly, "_distracted_ at the time. But later…when I look back on it now, I see all the signs: the way he yelled at his friends for talking about work in front of me and how he'd take off in the middle of the night for the 'late shift.' I asked him once to stay with me, but he said he couldn't, that he needed the extra money. I should've seen it all then, but I guess hindsight really is twenty-twenty."

This all sounds very familiar, so I'm on the edge of my seat, figuratively and literally. "Well, what was he doing? Is it why he was arrested?"

"Yeah." She sighs, rubbing one hand up and down her bicep – another vulnerable motion I've never seen her use before. "From what your dad told me, he was with several other guys – they all ran, but he was caught. He wouldn't name anyone else with him, so he was the only one charged for stripping cars."

Shaking off the mental image of a pole-dancing cartoon car, I ask, "You mean, like, stealing a bumper?"

"I mean they stole everything but the frame in less than five minutes. Apparently, they're quite the professionals."

"Oh," I say out loud, but on the inside I'm screaming, _Oh my God, that's what Jake__'s doing when he goes on those 'jobs?'_

"My dad told you all of this?"

"When he questioned me." Her voice cracks, and she blinks quickly. "I guess someone at _Sticks_ gave him my name and description, so he knew it was me."

"What did he want to know?"

"Mostly he asked what I knew about Paul, the garage he worked for, and if I could name the other boys that escaped that night. But I didn't know anything substantial. Hell, I didn't even know Paul had a _brother_ until he asked about him."

_Damn, there go my __ideas of Rose answering some of my lingering Jake questions._

I should probably be offering her words of comfort right now, but the only thing my brain seems to be focusing on is Charlie asking about Jake. "What happened to J-his brother? Was he arrested too?" _Wow Bella, that was about as subtle as a ton of bricks. Do some damage control._ "Or his friends?"

"No, they couldn't without cause. Paul wouldn't say, and all I knew was that they worked weird hours at the garage, but your dad said they were already looking into that."

"Why?"

"He thought they were running a chop shop – selling the parts they stole - but he said he was limited by the BIA from going any further into it. The garage is on the reservation, and it's out of his district."

"Wait, I heard that the garage was raided last year. Is that what they were searching for? Stolen parts?"

She nods. "Yeah, they didn't find anything though. By the time that your dad was able to get the BIA to search, they'd had plenty of time to hide evidence."

"How do you know all this?"

"Bella, your dad was – well, he may have scared the shit out of me when he called me to the station, but he was amazing. He could've called my parents at anytime, but he didn't. He treated me like he would you, like I was his daughter. I was grateful for that."

"I'm glad, Rose."

We sit awkwardly for a few moments, both consumed by our thoughts - Rose with her past and me with my present. After a promise to call her tomorrow, I exit the car and begin making my way back to Edward, who is surely worried about where we've disappeared to for so long.

My mind is a swirl of jumbled up thoughts as I weave my way into the crowd, walking until I'm within view of my friends. Edward's head is turned, his eyes travelling over the people to his left, and I know he's looking for me. I take a few steps closer but suddenly stop as a large, dark form blocks me from going any further.

My head snaps up, meeting Jake's onyx eyes. With Rosalie's story still fresh in my mind, I picture those eyes frightened, running in the dark with his friends, then Paul shackled in handcuffs and placed in a jail cell. His voice brings me back to the here and now.

"Still mad at me, Princess?"

"Yes," I answer quickly. My heart pangs painfully in my chest, his question reminding me of our previous words as well as the hurt. I glare at the leather adorning his chest. _Stupid jacket, I wouldn't want to wear you anyway._

"I was hoping you'd say that."

"Why?"

He gives me that infuriating smirk, and I immediately wish I hadn't asked.

Slowly, he takes a step closer while I move one back.

"'Cause I wanna make up…"

I try to back up again, but his hand firmly grips onto my hip, pulling me forward until there's nothing between us.

His husky voice lowers. "Like we did in the shed."

My cheeks flush while my fingers press against his leather jacket – _a jacket you'll never wear_, my rude inner voice reminds me, _but you're wearing Edward's_.

That last thought has me roughly pulling away and trying to move around him. "I have to go."

He easily catches me by the waist, curling me into him so my back is to his front.

"Jake, let me go. My friends are right behind you. If they see-"

The words die in my throat, and my eyes instinctively close as his hand creeps beneath my shirt, searing the bare skin of my stomach. He whispers, "Then let's get out of here."

My breath hitches. Part of me is screaming to agree and let him take me wherever he pleases, but the more logical side knows that we're in public – so easily able to be caught. I have to move _now_.

While attempting to wiggle out of his hold, I simultaneously scan the area for witnesses. As I turn in his embrace, my eyes land on a beautiful Latina girl staring daggers at us with her arms crossed. Her outfit screams _rocker chic_ with her jeans stylishly torn all the way up to the pockets, her black shirt hanging off one shoulder and exposing an intricate tattoo. I want to ignore her, but the way she's watching us has me feeling anxious. Jake notices my gaze and looks back as well. The girl changes her stance, flipping her mussed hair as she tilts her head in a "come hither" motion and smiles salaciously.

He winks at her before focusing back on me.

But my heart has already dropped at the action. "Do you know her?"

"No."

I don't believe him. "She acts like she knows you."

"Jealous?"

Narrowing my eyes, I'm finally able to shove away from him, but his iron-like grip on my waist keeps me from moving any further than an arm's length. "No, just wondering what you're doing here with me when you obviously have other offers."

"I told you: I want to make up."

"And this is how you apologize?"

"No, Princess, I apologize _orally_." Taking advantage of my stunned state, he leans forward, punctuating his point with a nip at my jaw.

An unintelligible sound emits from my mouth as it's suddenly gone dry. Swallowing, I try again, "I-" Shaking my head, I try to reform my thoughts. "I have to get back. I've been gone too long, and Edward's been looking for me."

"Doesn't seem like he's looking too hard." Jake nods his head toward Edward as he shifts over enough to reveal my boyfriend several yards behind him. Lauren has plastered herself to Edward's side, her nails practically embedded in his arm as she flirtatiously smiles up at him.

_That bitch!_

It'd be considered a crime of passion, my killing her, as I don't even realize I'm stomping toward them until someone grabs my upper arm to stop me.

"Look, he's busy. No one'll notice if we take off now."

My eyes are glued to Edward's face; his uncomfortable expression is plain as day.

"It's not like he's missing you," he adds, but it's the wrong thing to say as my blood boils.

"Like you're one to talk! At least I can see that Edward isn't interested in her! You, on the other hand, are flirting with girls right in front of me!"

His lips twitch. "So you _are_ jealous."

I'd be angry if I didn't believe he's right. Maybe I'm jealous, but the question is, _of who_? My focus shifts from him to the flirty rocker chick (who's decided she's had enough waiting and has started to make her way over here) to Edward and Lauren. God, why can't anything be easy? My heart is torn in two directions, one dying to keep Jake away from this new girl and the other begging to rip Lauren's face off and stake a claim on my boyfriend.

My decision is made when the voice in my head speaks, _You're just a bet to Jake._

"I guess I am," I respond, unsure if I'm answering Jake or the voice. Not giving him another opportunity to stop me, I dash forward and forcefully insert myself between Lauren and Edward. If I claw her a little while shoving her off him, it's completely accidental.

Edward sighs, clearly relieved.

"Oh, you're back!" Lauren exclaims, "Edward and I were just talking about setting up the search party."

She flashes me a sickeningly sweet smile, and I return it in full while wrapping both arms around Edward's waist, twisting so she's sure to see his name on my back. "Sorry, Rose wasn't feeling well. I sat with her a while, but she decided to go home."

"Oh, that's too bad." Lauren's sympathy grates on my nerves. This girl is faker than the C-cup she's wearing. Thankfully, she knows when to admit defeat (for now at least) as she links arms with Jessica.

Edward double checks on the state of his sister then kisses me lightly, murmuring, "I missed you," against my lips.

Guilt crashes through my stomach as I think about how happy we were earlier, but I push it away with distraction. "I feel like I've missed half the concert."

Pressing myself to his side, I continue to watch the band with Edward. A few minutes later, Alice's slim figure slides up beside us.

"Thank God, you're back! _Someone_," she gives a pointed look at Lauren, "couldn't seem to catch a hint so I went to find you. Where've you been?"

"Oh." My heartbeat speeds up. _How easy would it have been for __Alice to catch me with Jake!?_ "I'm sorry. Rose got sick." It's not much of an explanation, I know, but my throat has gone dry, and it's all the words I can force out.

Her brows furrow as she gives me a sad look, though she clears it quickly. Nodding, she tosses me a warm smile. "Just don't make a habit out of disappearing on us, 'kay?"

"Uh…sure," I answer, cocking my head slightly in confusion as she bounces back to her seat on the blanket.

* * *

_A/N:_ Hey guys! *waves* I know it's been forever, I'm sorry. I've been trying to finish this chapter up for ages. It just took on a life of its own and turned into a monster. I decided to cut this chapter in half a long time ago but was just waiting on it to be complete before posting. I'm not quite done with Chapter 14 but hopefully it won't be too much longer and you will get the continuation of Bella's birthday! Yay!

On that note, let me know what you loved! I know I didn't shed much light on Jake's history but we do know a bit more about Paul now. Also, what do you think about Rosalie and Paul, I personally, love the idea of their past. But what about you?

The amazingly talented Nikitajuice made me a beautiful manip of BoM Jake during these past few months as well. I highly encourage you to take a look as it is incredible. It can be found on my JBNP Bet on Me page. I plan on adding a link to my FFn homepage as well later.

As always, huge thanks and many, many hugs go to my beta Jkane180. And to my beautiful pre-readers, evermineFF and BellabbBlack, I wouldn't have gotten this far without you!

And lastly, to my wonderful late Nanny, I love you and will think of you often, afterall, I wouldn't be Kissy without you.


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

As the concert carries on, the audience dwindles. Lauren, Jessica and Mike leave while the rest of us decide to stay a little longer. Edward and I continue to sway behind our friends, but my attention has drifted far from the music. My thoughts are consumed with the revelations that Rosalie disclosed tonight, and I can't stop myself from looking for Jake every few seconds.

My heart plummets to my stomach when I finally spot him. I wish I hadn't.

I haven't seen him in over an hour, and I kept wondering if he'd gone off somewhere with Paul to break the law again. It didn't escape my attention that he and Paul were in the parking lot when we ran into them. Could that be an inconsequential coincidence or were they-–at the risk of sounding ridiculous– _casing the area_? But then I think about the rocker chick walking toward Jake and how I practically handed him over to her on a silver platter when I left, which makes me wonder if he's off somewhere with her right now instead. _And can someone please tell me why that feels like the worse of the two options? Because I sure as hell can't figure it out! _

So, let's call it intuition (or just plain masochism) because somehow I knew, _I knew_ he was with her and yet I still searched for him.

The crowd dispersed just right and suddenly he's in my view, my breath catching and stomach dropping at the sight. His hands smoothly roam up and down the other girl's sides, touching nearly every inch of her torso and narrowly missing the sections that would make this an R-rated viewing. I can't seem to tear my eyes away from them, watching with torturous fascination as his hand drifts lower down her hip. It's practically resting on her pelvis while she grinds her ass into his front in a pretense of dancing.

I want to go over there and rip her away from him as badly as I wanted to tear into Lauren before. Stomping my foot and throwing a temper tantrum seems like a pretty good idea as well, so maybe I'm not at my most level-headed right now. But _crap_.

Why is he doing this to me? Does he even care if I see him with her?

Yeah, okay, maybe I don't have a right to be feeling so…so _cheated_, because technically I chose to be here cuddling with my boyfriend instead of going with Jake, but can I at least plead temporary insanity? Because seeing him with her? It makes everything in me a jumbled up, distorted mess. It's basically impossible to describe exactly how I feel right now. More importantly, I can't explain why it is I'm doing what I'm doing… which is pressing my body into Edward's while forcing his hands to glide against my hips and around to my lower abdomen.

The longer I stare at Jake and _that girl,_ the more irritated I become. He hasn't looked my way, not once. Instead, he curls his body around her, his head dipped down-–probably so he can whisper who-knows-what into her ear. It's not like I want to know what he's saying (as if I could fool myself into thinking that. _Of course,_ I want to know!). Whatever it is, it has her biting her lip and smiling up at him as she skillfully slips down the front of his body and back up in one of those sexy dance moves.

Before I know it, I find myself almost mirroring the other girl's provocative actions, my hips rocking softly against Edward's while I lean my head back onto his shoulder. His fingers dig more firmly into my skin as I hear a faint groan of approval.

_Ha! Take that!_

Closing my eyes and mentally shaking myself, I realize that I'm obviously not thinking clearly right now either. Maybe I should just claim insanity and lose the "temporary," because apparently, jealousy causes me to turn into a total lunatic who completely loses control of her actions!

So let's use that as an excuse for why I can't stop watching Jake and his _date, _shall we?

The other girl twists in his arms. _Great, now she's rubbing her breasts against his chest_. My teeth clench so hard together they hurt, and I have to force my eyes closed for a moment just to try to calm down. _You're with Edward, _I tell myself._ You're nothing but a bet to Jake. He has every right to do what he wants, with whoever he wants._ Somehow, I've lost track of how this pep talk was supposed to be helpful.

When I reopen my eyes, things have actually gotten worse. Jake's hand is on her thigh, lifting her leg up so it's wrapped around his hip. His palm moves precariously close to her rear and right now, if looks could kill he'd be falling down dead from my hard glare. Yet he lives, tilting his head slightly in my direction and smirking… almost as if…

It's almost as if he knows I'm watching them and is purposefully trying to make me jealous! Or more accurately, he's showing me exactly what I'm missing out on.

I know it's petty and stupid, so I have no idea why I'm doing it but it's like my actions have a spiteful mind of their own. Shaking my ass for the world to see isn't exactly something I've done before, but having already given up on my sanity, I don't think much more of it as I begin to grind. Making myself look sexy on the other hand-–well, at least I'm _trying_. Slowly raising my arms I go to hook them around Edward's neck in a sensual manner but end up smacking him in the jaw instead.

Immediately I turn around, my hands fluttering up to his face, "Oh, Edward! I'm sorry!"

God, I feel so foolish, my cheeks burn and my eyes cut quickly to Jake and back. It's only a glance but even though he's still facing forward, I swear it looked like he was laughing. Or maybe I'm just imagining things.

"I'm sorry." I say again, tilting Edward's chin up to reveal the redness. Feeling terrible, I lean forward carefully brushing my lips against the sore spot of his jaw. I quickly feel the ridiculous need to cry. I don't know what the hell's wrong with me. It's got to be some kind of emotional overload from the complexities of the last few hours that have turned me into a complete and utter wreck.

Placing both hands around my wrists, Edward lowers them down, forcing me to look back at him. "Babe, it's okay. I'm fine."

Sweetly, he leans forward, placing a lingering kiss to my lips before pulling me in and allowing me to lay my cheek to his chest.

I bite the inside of my cheek to keep the tears from forming, and am unable to stop myself from checking on Jake again. While the girl in Jake's arms still sashays to the music, he's dropped her leg, his hands simply resting on her hips. Most importantly, he's _finally_ looking directly at me. However, the expression on his face is one that I've become increasingly familiar with-–anger.

He raises one eyebrow, angling his chin in a way that I can only interpret as a challenge.

I don't like _that_ idea at all.

His attention returns to the girl, his fingers wrapping around her hair and tilting her head back. Slowly, Jake dips his head lower, his lips descending to meet hers, ready and waiting for him. There's no doubt in my mind that he kisses her fully and passionately but I can't watch. Right as his lips begin to meet hers, I drop my eyes to the ground.

Edward's fingers ghost along the length of my hair, and I wonder, has he been doing that the whole time I've been hugging him? Tilting my head up so my chin rests on his chest, I look up into the eyes of the sweetest guy I've ever known. The small diamond pendant around my neck suddenly feels very heavy.

"I'm sorry, Edward." My heart aches with the words, their meaning too heavy for him to fully understand.

"I'm fine, Bella. You really don't pack that hard of a punch." He smiles in an attempt to make me feel better.

"No, not that." My emotions are muddled, conflicted, and confused-–my thoughts too. This is probably why I whispered an apology without thinking in the first place.

His brows furrow, "Then what?"

Part of me says I should tell him the truth but the bigger part is too afraid of the consequences. I shake my head and cover, "I'm just really tired. Would you mind taking me home?"

"Course not. I'll do whatever you want." He kisses me on the nose and takes my eyes dart across to Jake and the rocker chick, only to see that they're already gone.

-~~BoM~~-

Trudging across my bedroom, I carefully deposit Edward's jacket on the chair, my fingers affectionately sweeping over the white letters that make up his name.

Not bothering to look for pajamas, I simply remove my jeans and bra, leaving on my long button-down shirt and panties. I'm exhausted, and crawl into bed feeling no better than I did an hour ago.

Tossing and turning, I realize I'm too restless for sleep. Why can't I stop thinking about him? Is he out breaking the law with his brother again? Is he…with _her_? He left with her-–I'm sure of it-–just as I left with Edward. And that's okay. It's what I chose and what I wanted because no matter how I feel when I'm with him, he'll never see me as more than a bet. Which is probably why he's off with that girl right now doing-

My fingers clasp around my necklace. _Think about Edward._ Edward who's good to me and loves me. My wonderful boyfriend who's in danger of being taken from me, not only by the two-faced bitch Lauren, but also by my own stupid actions. Edward, who I cheat on because I'm too caught up in a bet with someone so intoxicating that I find myself liking him, even against my better judgment!

What if–while I'm too preoccupied with Jake-–Lauren succeeds and Edward cheats on me?

_Wouldn't that be fitting? _my rude voice quips, my stomach lurching at the thought. Tonight at least taught me one thing: I can't stand the idea of losing Edward. When I saw Lauren with her claws in him earlier, I could've killed someone.

Except, didn't I feel the same way when I saw Jake with _that girl_? The way he went to kiss her in retaliation (and quite possibly to feed on the jealousy he knew very well that I felt) has me going crazy. An image of him with her comes unbidden to my mind-–their lack of clothing a detail that I want to shove as far from my mind as possible.

_Try to think of something else._ Like the law breaking thing. Although, I'm not certain of Jake's part in it. Just because his brother was arrested for stripping cars doesn't mean he's done it too. He isn't guilty by association even if part of Rosalie's story _does_ seem remarkably familiar. To be fair, he could be out late doing other things like…like…

Apparently my mind is a torturous bitch because it conjures up the image of Jake kissing _that girl_ again. Not only that, but they're rolling around in a bed somewhere, both shirtless and panting. My conflicting emotions build with the images, crashing and mixing together until I'm so frustrated that I grab my pillow and hurl it across the room. It hits the wall with a soft thump and bounces just enough that when it falls onto my dresser it takes half the contents sitting on top with it. My lamp, alarm clock, pictures and various other knickknacks clatter noisily to the floor. Reaching for a second pillow, I hold it up and bury my face to muffle the scream. This one I drop next to me instead of throwing, while I wait for Charlie to come barging in, demanding to know what the ruckus was. But he never comes. He must be in a dead sleep to have not heard all that!

Wrapping my arms around my knees, I press my forehead to them. _Why can't I stop thinking about him when he obviously doesn't care about me?_

A small creak from the direction of my window causes my head to snap up immediately. The curtains billow slightly and suddenly he's _there_.

Standing in my room every bit as dark and intimidating as ever.

Is it crazy that I feel so _relieved_?

"Jake!" I flinch, lowering my voice to a whisper, "What are you doing here?"

He flashes me a roguish smile, "Came to make up."

My lips part and produce a scoff-like sound made partly in gasp but mostly in indignation. I know what those words mean, what he's saying he came for.

"Are you insane? What makes you think that I even want…" I can't possibly bring myself to say what he really wants, so I repeat his innuendo, "_to make up with you?_"

He laughs without sound, the kind that's really just a condescending puff of air as he stalks further into my room. It's the equivalent of saying _"Sure, Princess, go ahead and tell yourself that." _I don't even argue because I'm already afraid that I've lost the fight.

By now, my eyes have adjusted fairly well to the light. It doesn't hurt that I have multiple alarm clocks illuminating the room either. Okay, so technically one of those alarm clocks is lying somewhere on my bedroom floor, blacked out after its tragic death-by-flying-pillow. But the point is, my room has a faint green and red glow from the various devices, plus there's a decoration of tulle covered Christmas lights framing my shelf in the corner. The lighting is actually kind of…_romantic._

_Oh God. I'm so screwed._

Jake's eyes sweep over the mess on the floor, one eyebrow rising as he looks to me in silent question. I'm still internally freaking out about everything else right now so I just shrug in answer. His gaze catches on my desk chair where Edward's jacket lays on display. The muscle in his jaw twitches.

"Kept that?"

"He asked me to." I force my chin up defiantly, "And I like wearing it."

"Like it?" Jake scoffs. Ripping off his leather jacket he forcefully throws it onto the chair, effectively covering the other one. "When I'm through with you, Princess, you won't give a shit about it." He moves quickly. Within an instant his weight is dipping down the side of the bed, his fingers forcefully threading through my hair and tipping my head back so my eyes lock with his. Power and dominance exude from every pore in his body as he growls, "That's a promise."

His lips slant across mine before I even have the chance to speak.

I should push him away, kick him out of my bed-–my room, but the truth is... _I want it_. I want _him_. Having him here with me causes my heart to quicken and butterflies to take flight. Knowing that he could be doing _something else _with_ someone else _yet he _chooses_ to be here with me? It's-–it's… _liberating. _

I can feel my thoughts slipping away as he coaxes my lips apart, his tongue meeting mine in a languid caress. The bed springs shift and I'm too preoccupied to care, because for the life of me, I can't figure out why I'd want to open my eyes. My hands wind around his neck as he slowly lays me down on the pillows, his lips never leaving mine.

The blankets tug around my waist, and I realize that he's moving them out from under him. He begins to lift them up, causing a gush of cool air to hit my bare legs.

My eyes pop open as I grip the sheet and pull it back down. _Oh my God! How could I forget I'm not wearing any pants!_

This dilemma seems to jog the fogginess out of my brain and somehow brings a semblance of clarity with it. Good Lord, what was I thinking? How is it that he kisses me and I forget even the most important of matters?

Jake doesn't seem at all phased by my sudden epiphany as he continues to kiss along my neck. I'd be lying if I said I didn't tilt my head back just enough to give him more access. Everything he does just feels _so good_!

_But it's wrong. Oh so very wrong!_

My body begs me not to stop him, but my head and my heart say otherwise. I just have too many questions-–too many contradicting emotions that are eating away at each other.

"Jake?"

"Mph."

"Can I ask you a question?"

He moves so that he's hovering over me, his eyes are fixated on his fingers spreading open the collar of my shirt. Slowly, he trails them down over my breasts and stomach until they nearly reach the hem on my hip. A shiver runs through my body at the ghost of his touch. His wolfish grin spreads, "Now?"

I take a deep breath to keep my mind off his wandering hands and on my quest instead. "Please?"

"Just one?"

Heaven knows why, but I flush. "Maybe more than one. It depends on your answer."

He bites his lip, his eyes hungrily roving down to my chest and up. I'm fully covered, but the way he's looking at me I don't feel like it.

"How 'bout this, Princess, we'll take turns. For every question you ask, I get one too." His stare finally snaps from my chest to my eyes. "Deal?"

I nod quickly. At this point I'd agree to nearly anything if it gets me some answers.

_Start simple, Bella._ "Paul was arrested?"

The muscle jumps in his jaw as he clenches his teeth, his fingers momentarily stopping their ministrations on my side. _Okay, maybe not so simple. This may be a sore subject_. He gruffly bites out the words, "That didn't sound like a question."

"It was… just a yes or no one."

He takes a deep breath, his eyes moving to the headboard above me. For a minute, I don't think he's planning on answering, but right as I'm coming to terms with disappointment, he fists my shirt and grounds out a quick, "Yeah."

Reflexively, my hand rises to calm him, itching to touch his cheek and lightly brush over the stubble of his jaw. Instead, it hovers in mid-air. He seems far away in his thoughts. The wall that he places between us-–the one that I can sometimes crack through–is firmly in place now. I briefly wonder if all my questions will keep it there, or if I'll be able to slowly chip away at it until it falls. My own on the other hand has long since crumbled. One simple glance or touch from Jake and my guard effectively drops, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in its wake.

"It's your turn." I quietly remind him.

His eyes come back to me, his expression serious. "Did Doucheward get you the necklace?"My hand drops to my throat, the teardrop pendant still hangs by the delicate chain. I don't have to answer as he huffs. "Diamonds. Fucking figures."

Cheeks burning a little brighter, I move on, ignoring his comment. I'm determined to get some real answers out of him. "Why was Paul arrested?"

"Maybe we should stick to the yes and no answers, Princess."

My frustrated and unladylike grunt does nothing to dissuade him. "_Fine_," I rephrase, "Rose said he was arrested for stripping cars. Is that true?"

"Are all these questions going to be about my brother?"

"No."

"Good, I thought maybe you were developing a crush."

Yeah right. I'm having a hard enough time juggling Edward and Jake. I can't even contemplate adding a third guy into the mix. _No, thank you_.

"You're deflecting the question. Was that why he went to jail?"

He snaps back angrily, "Don't ask what you already know."

"But I don't! I just want to know the truth!"

"Truth?" He spits. "Here's the fucking truth! Paul spent six months in the county jail for doing what he had to."

"Why?"

His eyes shift to my necklace, "We can't all afford diamonds, Princess."

"So he stole car parts for money?"

He gives one curt shake of the head, "It's my turn." The angry glint still lingers in his eyes even as he smirks down at me. "Have you gotten off since your first time with me?"

The color floods to my face. Honestly, I tried once by myself but I just…_couldn't_. Jerkily, I shake my head, too embarrassed to audibly answer. His smirk grows into a wicked smile as his fingers tighten their grip on my waist, his hips pressing harder against my covered thigh.

_Stay on track, Bella._

"Ha-have you ever stolen parts with him?"

He's unashamed as he answers, "Yes. You gonna tell on me, Princess?"

"No! I wouldn't—"

"How do I know that? How do I know that you're not gonna rush to Daddy's room and tell him everything the minute I leave?"

"I couldn't do that without him knowing you were here. I'm not supposed to socialize with you, remember? Let alone have you in my bed." My voice breaks on the last word, the implications of that sentence saying more than I ever could.

Jake smiles in a way that tells me he already knew my answer. His eyes lift to the closed door, something sinister flashing behind them. I realize he only wanted me to reiterate the reasons I couldn't tell as a reminder to myself. I'd be annoyed, if it weren't for the fact that his attention comes back to me, in the form of his lips pressing against my jaw, hotly kissing just below my ear.

"So the night of the party," I begin, fighting to keep my eyes from closing, "when Quil said you had a 'job' that meant you guys were going to strip cars?"

He barely detaches his lips from my neck, "Does it matter?"

"Yes! You could've been caught!"

"Worried about me, Princess?"

"Don't you want to learn from your brother's mistakes instead of remaking them?" _Oh crap._ I know the minute it comes out of my mouth it was the wrong thing to say.

He lifts himself up, his hands pressing me further into the mattress as he stares down at me. His fierce expression holds me exceptionally still, "There's no goddamn _choice_. But what the fuck would you know? A princess who gets diamonds and new fucking cars for her birthday. You don't know the first thing about sacrifice."

"Maybe if you told me—"

"Tell you what? How Paul gave up _everything_ for us? How he quit school so I wouldn't have to? Took a full time job because my deadbeat father drowned his feeling in a bottle after my mom died? My dad became a useless piece of shit who was too fucking drunk to go to work. He quit paying the fucking bills and didn't give a shit about what happened to us. If it wasn't for Sam I don't know where the fuck we'd be. He was the only fucking guy in town who'd hire a high school dropout at sixteen."

It's like the air has been ripped out of my lungs. I know I'm staring up at him like a gaping fool but I-–I just don't know how to react.

Jake on the other hand seems to calm down considerably after letting it all out. "Not what you expected?"

I start shaking my head, but then the initial shock wears off as a few of the things he said begin turning in my mind. If Paul was sixteen when he started working at the garage, maybe it makes sense why he'd be desperate enough to steal for extra money to support his brother, but now that Jake works there too… "Why do _you_ do it?"

"Get back to the yes or no questions, Princess."

"Fine. Are you ever going to stop?"

He rolls his eyes and says firmly, "No."

"But why? You couldn't possibly still need the money. It's been years and you both work at the garage now; isn't that enough?"

"You think you have this all figured out, huh? That we're just a bunch of greedy sons of bitches who do it for the fucking thrill?"

"No, that's not what I—"

"Do you think we want to do it? You think Embry wants to take hot money home to his mom? Her disability check can't pay for half the things they need, so he does what he has to just like the rest of us. You think Jared can afford to go to school full-time and feed his girlfriend and kid? Quil's the only fucking idiot who does it for fun."

"What about you?"

He shakes his head, "You're not following the rules." Dipping his chin to whisper into my ear, "I like that. But it's my turn now…" His eyes go back to his fingers, watching as they trail down my cheek, neck, collar and lower. This distracting thing he's doing? It totally works. Remind me to cross Interrogation Officer off my future career list. He sweeps the tips of his fingers subtly over the swell of my breasts, the thin fabric of my shirt not offering any help in lessening the shockwaves that flow through me as he passes over the sensitive flesh. "Do you like this?"

"Is that your next question?"

He shrugs. I take that as his acquiescence and nod because I do like it. It's uncharacteristically sweet and romantic at the same time that it's a little bit naughty.

"How about this?" He pinches the hardened bud, causing my breath to catch in a loud gasp. My hands fist his shirt in an attempt to regain some kind of control.

I'm too self-conscious to answer, but he doesn't seem to care as his fingers move slowly to the top button of my shirt, popping it opened.

His eyes search mine, a devilish expression dancing behind them. "Is this okay?"

I don't stop him, but I try to elude the question, "You complain that I don't follow the rules. That's three in a row for you. Isn't it my turn?"

"We already know I'm a rule-breaker, Princess. And technically that was a question so it's my turn again." The second button slips through the hole, my top now lying precariously open, yet still covering me. He smiles as I shiver, his fingers sensually sliding down the valley of my breast in their pursuit of the next button. "You want me to keep going." It isn't a question, and even if it was it wouldn't matter, because he's right. "Your body is begging me to keep going. I can see it in your eyes, in the way you wrap yourself around me. You want me."

Still not a question. Is he expecting an answer?

By now he's on the last button of my shirt, his hands feeling like fire on my bare abdomen. My breathing is labored and erratic.

"I'm going to open this now." Again, it's neither a request nor a command, just a statement to which he's allowing me the option of disagreeing. I consider it, but the intensity of his gaze and the feel of his body against mine counter any rebuttal I could've had. My heart pounds like mad. Eyes locked on his expression, I watch him carefully while he folds over the fabric of my shirt, first uncovering one side then the other, baring my chest to him.

"_Fuck_," he groans as an icy fire rushes through my veins, my blood running both hot and cold under his gaze.

"Do you like me?" I blurt unexpectedly surprising even myself.

"Like this?" He doesn't take his eyes off my breasts. "Fuck yeah."

_That's not what I meant._ Discomfited, I go to cover myself back up but his hands are faster, shifting so he's lying directly over me and pinning my arms down. He slowly raises them above my head, crossing my wrists so he can hold them hostage in one hand, leaving the other free to glide down the ticklish side of my arm. His eyes find mine, "Has Doucheward ever seen you like this?"

Bringing up Edward is the worst possible thing he could have done. My stomach churns, my heart hurts and my guilt resurfaces with a vengeance. Wiggling beneath him, I try to free my wrists and halt everything that's going on between us, but his grip is unyielding.

"Fair game, Princess. I answer your questions, you answer mine." Thickly swallowing, I realize he's right. He made up the rules, but I agreed to play. He's just obviously better at it than me. Jake's fingers curl around my chin, tilting it up and forcing me to look at him, a territorial gleam in his eyes. "Has he?"

Squeezing my eyes shut, I take a deep breath and nod.

"He can't do what I can." The next thing I know, there's a warm wetness caressing my chest. Hair tickles my neck as Jake continues dropping open-mouthed kisses diagonally until his lips are closed over one pert bud. A squeak sounds from the back of my throat while his tongue dances over my breast. My fingers curl tightly into one another. They have nowhere else to go, still locked down by his iron hold.

He kisses back up my neck, his voice rough when he speaks. "Like that?"

The answer is _yes_ but I'm too flustered to speak. There's a hint of a smile in his voice as he reminds me, "Your turn, Princess."

"Right." Clearing my throat, I try to focus, thinking about what else I wanted to ask him. A horrible thought comes to my mind, making me feel like I've been doused in ice cold water. I want to cover myself up quickly. Tugging my hands I spit out the words, "You were with another girl tonight."

"You were with another guy." The nauseous feeling returns to my stomach, and I pull harder on my wrists. He finally relents and allows me to cover myself back up.

"You kissed her."

"You kissed him."

"But you left with her!"

He narrows his eyes, "You left with him."

"But I-I didn't do anything else with him."

"Nothing?"

I shake my head, "Nothing."

"Good."

"Did you—"

"I got you something." A playful smile tugs at his lips. The hand on my stomach begins circling under my shirt, the tips of his fingers just barely brushing against the bottom of my breasts. I'm about ninety percent sure that he's switching gears to distract me again, but for the first time I welcome it. I don't really want to know the truth. I want to believe that he didn't do anything with that girl other than the one kiss I (sort of) witnessed, and if he did, I don't want to know what it was. I'm so tired of feeling terrible, of worrying and over-analyzing everything. I don't want to think about him with her anymore, or me with Edward. I just want to spend this time with him and _enjoy_ it even though I know I shouldn't.

"You did?" Suspicion forms in the back of my mind as I wonder if he's using some kind of innuendo.

He shifts onto his side. Digging his hand into his pocket, he produces a fist, the gift presumably hidden inside. His cynicism is present even when being generous, "I was going to give it to you earlier, but you refused to leave with me."

He drops the item into my waiting palm. I hold it up, trying to get a good look at it in the weak light. Hanging on a keychain is a model of a red, '63Chevy pickup truck. In what I presume to be his handwriting is the word _Princess_ artfully painted in white across the hood. It's a little bigger than a Hot Wheels toy and infinitely more precious. I continue to stare at the gift, completely at a loss for words.

"Look, I know it's not a fuckin' diamond but I thought—"

"It's better."

"What?"

"Oh, Jake, this is better than a diamond. It actually _means_ something."

Of course, he looks pretty proud of himself after that. Not that he shouldn't be. It really is amazing. I'm still stunned that he gave me a gift, let alone something so thoughtful.

"Guess I just thought you deserved to have your truck back. Even if it is on a keychain."

"Thank you, this is…" But I don't know how to put into words exactly what it means. Keeping my eyes locked on his, I slip my hands around his neck and bring him down to me, hoping instead that I can convey the feeling I could never verbalize. My lips barely brush against his in a sweet caress, tilting my head slightly they meet again this time slanting with a firmer pressure. My eyes close, his hand clasping around my ribs and arching me closer, causing half of my shirt to fall open again.

Jake wastes no time as he groans into my mouth, his hand traveling back down my side and beneath the blankets, running along my hip. They hesitate when they meet my panties before venturing further to my bare thigh.

He breaks away, his eyes heated, "Fuck, Princess, are you trying to kill me?"

Don't ask me where it comes from, but a flirtatious smile builds. "Maybe."

There's no time for me to react as the blankets are ripped away from my body. The cool air hits and his hands are there, feeling every inch of exposed skin, from my thighs to my stomach and up to my uncovered breasts. His eyes roam greedily over my body and though I feel exposed, it's also empowering.

That look he's giving me? _I_ put it there. I have the ability to make him lose control just as he does me.

Guiding him to my lips again, I kiss him ardently, nearly crazed for more of him. My fingertips sneak beneath his t-shirt, tip-toeing up each one of his defined abs. There's no need to ask what I want, but I still whine in protest as he removes himself in order to take off his shirt. His cocky half-smile is proof of just how happy he is with himself for eliciting such a noise from me. But I can't bring myself to care, because he's back, his lips on mine and I'm eagerly arching my back, pressing my half-naked torso against his. And it feels _incredible_.

His lips attack at my throat, his one hand in my hair, the other on my hip supporting me and holding me tightly against him. Hot breath flows down my neck, teeth scratch at my collarbone and then there's a shooting sensation going from my breast to every nerve ending in my body. His tongue soothes the bite he just gave my sensitive bud causing another jolt of pleasure.

My breath catches when fingers slip over the cotton of my panties, partly in excitement and partly fear. We've gone so far already. Should I stop him?

He speaks first, eliminating my previous thought, "Do you want me to make good on my promise?"

My face heats. _Oh God, am I supposed to answer? Is he still playing the question game?_

I've thought about this ever since he promised it inside of the shed. I've _imagined_ it but now that the moment is here and he's asking… An unintelligible sound emits from my throat.

"Is that a yes?" He smirks, his fingers brushing harder against my panties causing a pressure to build between my legs that I've never felt before but I know what it is. My body is begging him to give me more. He shifts over me, his lips brushing against my jaw as he does and his bare chest rubbing against mine. A soft whimper finds its way out of me, the feel of our naked skin still electric. Smiling, his eyes drift down to look between us, his fingers dipping beneath the elastic of my underwear.

A shift in the wind leads to a creak sounding by the window, his head snaps up to the door apparently unaware of where the noise originated. A dark look passes over his features, "Any chance Daddy'll check on you?"

I almost sit up. I would have if it wasn't for his two hundred pound body literally pinning me to my bed. My brain thankfully plays catch up and remembers the loud racket I made throwing the pillow earlier. If Charlie were to wake up that would've been the time.

I shake my head, "I don't think so."

"Too bad."

I'm unable to process the implications of that as his lips suction themselves to mine. He starts off slowly, his mouth leisurely working against mine, before turning more passionate and effectively immobilizing any functioning brain cells I had left.

Fluidly his chest glides against my own, dropping open mouth kisses on his way south he stops to take my breasts into his mouth once more, his fingers at last sliding fully between my legs. As he did before, one digit touches the wetness and then strokes it upward. Except this time, two sensations strike me at once. My skin feels like it's on fire as his fingers and mouth stimulate shockwaves between the two areas that in turn shoot through every inch of my body.

Before long I'm panting, my head thrashing and "_Oh_," I'm on the brink of _something_.

Stopping his ministrations he removes his hand and breaths damply against my skin, "Not yet, Princess." Drifting lower, his eyes become level with my panties as he looks up at me from under his lashes.

"Ready?"

_Oh yes. _

The elastic band curls under his fingers, slowly bunching around my hips-–then the words tumble out.

"May-Maybe I should lock the door."

He grins wickedly, "Leave it. The suspense is half the fun."

Not allowing me time to disagree, he places an open mouth kiss just below my descending panty line, his mouth trailing down at the same speed as my underwear.

Then his tongue is _right there_, licking over the most sensitive part of me. It's wet and oh, so weird.

I can feel his lips curve up right before he pulls away, his eyes briefly flitting to mine then returning to his task of removing my underwear completely. Sitting up, he allows his fingers to ghost along my legs until his task is done and I'm laying nearly naked in front of him. _This_ is the most exposed I've ever been, laying in front of him topless and open. I'm utterly terrified.

Jake's warm hands slide up and down from my calves to my thighs, my knees have somehow melded themselves together. "Princess?" My anxious eyes snap to his. "Relax." I try to, with his gaze still locked on mine I allow him to pry my legs apart. "You're going to love every moment of this. I promise."

His hands grip my hips and yank me a foot down the bed, his forearms somehow already tucked beneath my thighs and his face only inches away from my center. He's still staring at me intently, although a smirk has graced his lips "You know I always keep my promises."

* * *

A/N: Hey guys! I hope you really enjoy this latest chapter of BoM!

Please let me know what you think about this latest chapter, I know a lot seemed to happen in a short amount of time. So, what did you think of Jake and his _date_? Or Bella's ridiculous attempt at seductive dancing? Jake gave us a bit more information about himself and the others at the garage huh? And lastly, the ending...Really sorry about the stopping point and all... ;-)

Big thanks to my pre-readers BellabbBlack and evermineff! And huge thanks to meranaamjoker for her guest betaing! (You must check out her stories if you haven't already because she's pretty much my idol.)

*hugs*


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